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#i don’t think she realises how bad of a neighbourhood i live in like... i wouldn’t want to sit in a car for an undetermined length of time
bullet-prooflove · 7 months
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Garden Party: Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Reader
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Tagging: @aaronhtchnrs @rosaliedepp @mysoulisasunflower @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @justreblogginfics @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @pimosworld @beardedbarba @est1887 @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spookyboogyuniverse @corruptedcoffin @nu1freakshow @@oureternalbond  @the-wandering-lunatic @thebaileybugle @proceduralpassion @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @thanossexual @the-wandering-lunatic @thebaileybugle @justreblogginfics @deekaag
Prequel to Come Up for Air
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Frankie meets you at a garden party of all things. It’s his sister’s birthday and he’s spent weeks building the bar out of pallets, because he’s ‘handy’ and his morning stringing fairy lights across the top of the fences, along with fake roses to make the place look ‘magical’. It’s not even a big birthday.
Lucia is two years younger than him and has always lived extravagantly, his little sister deserves the world, but he wishes she wouldn’t whine about how his truck brings down the neighbourhood every time he parks it outside her house.
As he stands underneath the strings of light and looks up at the night sky, he realises that she may have been right about the vibe they bring to the garden. There’s an ethereal air to the place, the flowers accentuate the plush greenery making it seem like botanical wonderland.
He doesn’t know anyone here except Lucia and her husband Dave, the TV Exec. He knows fuck all about what Dave actually does, only that he makes an alarming amount of money. Frankie’s only been home a couple of months and honestly, he kinda sucks at making friends. He’s too quiet, Lucia tells him, too lost in his own head.
How could he not be? He thinks. The shit he’s done. He can’t burden anyone with that. There are only three people who can understand him on any level, and they are certainly not at this party.
A couple more minutes he thinks. He’ll stay a couple more minutes before making his excuses.
That goes completely out of the window when you literally bump into him. He doesn’t know how it happens because he’s standing stationary for Christ’s sake. You’re in the midst of apologising when he reaches out a hand to steady you, his warm palm coming to rest upon your shoulder, thumb accidently skirting your collarbone. It’s the first physical contact he’s had with anyone for a while, and it makes his heart thud even harder in his chest.
When he looks into your eyes he knows he’s in trouble. They’re a stunning shade, the hues bleeding into one another. He’s told women they have beautiful eyes before but with you he means it. The words slip out of his mouth before he can take them back and you tip your head back and laugh. It’s a musical sound that strikes a chord somewhere deep down inside of his soul.
“Pretty bad huh?” He says smiling despite himself.
He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t approach women, he doesn’t hit on them. Every single relationship he’s been in, he’s fallen into.
“I’ve heard worse.” You reply.
He can see it, you’re a striking woman. He’d sure you catch a lot of guy’s attention. There’s no ring on your finger and he feels a surge of hope.
“I bet you have.” He says knowingly, taking a sip of his beer.
It starts from there, the two of you sitting at the makeshift bar long into the night. You’re warm, companionable. He learns that you’re a writer for one of those sketch shows he’s seen on TV, that  you don’t usually tell people that. You list the professions that you’ve made up during your tenure on Tinder, each one becoming more creative and silly the longer it goes on. He finds himself laughing for the first time in a long time and he’s forgotten just how it good it feels.  
“Because they’ll ask for tickets?” he asks, questioning the reasoning behind it. He’s old fashioned, he prefers actually meeting people instead of using apps.
“Mostly.” You tell him before deliberating. “I also don’t want them to have that part of me. Remember this it isn’t a long-term connection I’m looking for; I just want to get fucked.”
Heat creeps across his cheeks and he takes a swig from his beer in an attempt to hide it. He finds your openness refreshing and it emboldens him. He hasn’t had this much fun in a long time, he can’t remember the last frank conversation he had.
“And why is that?” He asks you.
“My schedule.” You say with the shrug of your shoulders. You gesture to the space around you, it’s getting late, or early depending on how you look at it. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, bathing the garden in an orange glow. Most of the guests have gone home and the entire yard is in a state of disarray. Frankie can see his sister sprawled out on the couch through the French windows, a blanket haphazardly tossed over her. “Everybody’s going to bed, but this is the golden hour for me. The work I do, the pitching, the rewrites, the editing, the filming, it all happens overnight. It’s entirely nocturnal. You can’t ask anyone to get on board with that. People think they can handle it but they can’t.”
He senses you’ve learned that from experience. That there’s been a boyfriend or two in the past who’ve called it quits because they couldn’t deal with it.
“I’m an insomniac.” He reveals to you, his hand clasped around his beer. “Sometimes when I can’t fall asleep, I drive around the city with the radio on, get out of my own head for a little while.”
“I get that.” You tell him with a smile. “The city is different at night, it’s quiet, it feels like it’s settling.”
You’re not wrong. He sees a lot of shit you don’t see in the day time, but it’s the peacefulness that he enjoys. There’s less traffic on the road, the streets are quieter. He thinks the nightlife suits him.
“The good thing about that is that I know all the good places to eat…” He says checking his watch. “… at four thirty in the morning.”
“Are you asking me out for breakfast?”  
“Would you come along if I did?”
“Yea.” You tell him. “I think I would.”
“There’s a place around the corner.” He tells you, touching the edge of his cap. It’s a nervous gesture, because only now does he realise the enormity of his actions, that the night is shifting towards date territory, and he hasn’t been on a date for a very long time.  “We can walk it?”
“Sounds like a plan.” You say as you climb off the barstool. Frankie follows suit, helping you into your jacket before the two of you slip out through the garden gate, trying to make as little noise as possible. There’s a giddiness to it, he feels like a teenager sneaking out of his parent’s house to meet a girl.
Out on the street he’s surprised when you capture his hand in yours. They fit together perfectly, your fingers entwining with his. It’s been a long time since he’s held someone’s hand, even longer since he’s met someone who he connects with.
“I like this.” He says, his thumb ghosting along the inside of your wrist.
He sees the blush creep up your cheeks and he can’t help but smile because it’s just so fucking adorable.
“Good.” You tell him. “Because I like it too.”
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“The Elephant in the Room” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 5 (Final)
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Read Part 1 Here
Read Part 2 Here
Read Part 3 Here
Read Part 4 Here
SUMMARY — What you thought would be a nice private space rented from a nice lady in a nice neighbourhood soon turned to be a living nightmare. Enter: the most eccentric little girl and her even more unconventional father who just so happens to be the criminal boss of Camden Town.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi friends! 💗💗💗💗💗 After an eternity of a writer's block, the series is finished! Thank you to all of you who encouraged me and commented and sent love, I truly appreciate you and the support for this story!
WORD COUNT — 1,804
Masterlist
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Come December, you received some much needed respite from teaching, even though you tried not to think about it that way. Taking care of your pupils was after all your calling, though perhaps moonlighting as Alice’s tutor had finally taken its toll on your health. For some time now Mrs. Collins had stopped with her incessant bickering and started to treat you more kindly. That, you decided, was bad news in itself.
“Any plans for Christmas, luv?” she asked you one evening when she ambushed you in the kitchen with a pot of strong tea in one hand and a deck of well-worn cards in the other.
“Ambushed” was the correct term, too, as your actual plans involved checking the schoolwork and then polishing off that bottle of gin you had been harbouring upstairs for the better part of the year.
“I was thinking of visiting my family,” you lied smoothly and accepted the cup with a small smile.
Mrs. Collins raised an eyebrow, then wasted no time between pouring tea and interrogation:
“Really? You never talk about them, dove.”
“No, I suppose I don’t…”
She was expecting a follow-up, you clearly saw that, but living in that house and dealing with the likes of Alfie Solomons taught you more things you originally cared to admit.
For one, you stopped explaining yourself; at first purely because you knew how Alfie wanted to coax as much information from you as possible, at any given occasion. But then you actually grew more confident in your convictions.
As much as you hated the notion, however, what Alfie said or did started to occupy your thoughts more and more each day. You couldn’t quite help it. You and Alice grew closer during these past few months, and even though you and Alfie still bickered from time to time, the initial resentment turned into mutual understanding.
Not to mention, you now had a hard time pretending to yourself that the man was entirely unattractive.
“Well then,” Mrs. Collins smirked and took a sip of her tea. “Whatever you say, I reckon.”
You followed suit and coughed a little when you realised much of the tea constituted of rum.
“Mrs. Collins!”
“What now?”
You made a face and she ignored you and so you proceeded with the game of cards.
“I don’t suppose I’ll visit them this year, though,” you finally admitted, both to your landlady and to yourself.
“And why’s that?” she asked as she shuffled the cards again.
“They don’t really wish to see me.”
Something akin of anger glinted in the older woman’s eyes, which truly surprised you. Mrs. Collins was rarely angry at you these days.
“Then they’re a bunch of fools, I say!”
You frowned at the bluntness, though you supposed you shouldn’t have expected anything else from the woman. She was, if nothing else, painfully honest.
Mrs. Collins didn’t mind your outrage in the least. She lit a cigarette and concluded the thought with:
“If ever there was a girl I’d want to call my daughter, I suppose I couldn’t ask for anyone better than you.”
The sudden sentiment left you speechless. Having distracted you so, Mrs. Collins laid down her cards and cackled:
“Ha! I won!”
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You should have known. In retrospect, you should have bloody known.
Friendship or not, some things on your street would never change. Alfie Solomons, this much you knew, would certainly never change.
On Christmas morning, you were woken up by the familiar racket coming from your charming neighbour’s house. Since the two didn’t celebrate Christmas, they apparently decided the entire street shouldn’t either.
You groaned and felt yourself already in a foul mood. You looked out the window, but firmly concluded that even the freshly fallen snow couldn’t do much to ease your anger. It was still dark out and the yellow fog coming from the gas lamps gave the streets an odd look.
“God damn you, Alfie Solomons,” you grumbled, already feeling you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.
Soon enough, the usual noise of your days off followed. You brushed your hair and practically counted to the second as your front door slammed and Alice ran upstairs to knock on your bedroom door.
“Are you awake?!” she asked unnecessarily and you groaned in frustration.
“No.”
“What do you mean?” she scoffed. “I can hear you!”
“Alice…”
“Miss, come downstairs!” she told you off as if she were the mistress and you the insufferable pupil. “’tis already Christmas!”
Thinking this behaviour rather odd, though in truth no odder than usual for the girl, you sat up and grabbed your robe.
“That bloody family, I swear to God,” you grumbled as you descended the stairs, Alice already running down to the kitchen.
“What’s that bloody racket?! Girl! What kind of house do you think this is?!” You soon heard Mrs. Collins and observed her coming out of her rooms, followed by a cloud of cigarette smoke no less thick than the morning fog.
“Morning, Mrs. Collins,” you sighed, then pretended not to notice when Alfie arrived through the front door—though in a manner decidedly quieter than his spawn had.
You also tried to ignore the look he sent you when he saw the state of you; the look that was positively hungry.
“Aye, that’s much how we met, innit, darlin’.”
The smirk that followed the sentiment was quite frankly indecent. You opted to ignore it.
“Merry Christmas, luv.”
“Good morning, Mr. Solomons.”
Alfie chuckled at the snark and let you enter the kitchen first. Much like every morning, the room was freezing and so you busied yourself with starting the fire.
“Might I inquire as to the reason I was awoken at the crack of dawn, Mr. Solomons?”
“Might she inquire, bloody hell woman! ‘Cause I got somethin’ for ya, don’t I? An’ then we gotta leave.”
“Leave?”
You turned around to face the man, since that much got your attention. As per usual, Alfie’s expression told you exactly nothing, though that smirk still lingered.
“Where are you going?”
“Yeah, wouldn’t ya like to know.”
“Yes, I would actually.”
“Sit down already.”
You scoffed at the command and started the tea instead. In the meantime, Alice already placated Mrs. Collins with a colourful box with a bow. From what you could see, it looked like luxury toiletries.
“We’re goin’ away for a few days,” Alfie explained, seeing as he couldn’t get you to oblige him any more than he usually could. “Thought it appropriate to say goodbye first.”
Seeing as “appropriate” wasn’t exactly in the vocabulary of the Solomons family, you rolled your eyes especially hard.
“Yeah, don’t do that, luv. I mean it. Didn’t want to just disappear on ya.”
“Where are you going?” you asked.
“Promised the young one she’ll see the real snow, alright?”
“We have snow in London.”
“Right… But I’m takin’ her away to the country. Seein’ as she’s half-savage, right, some runnin’ around would do her good.”
“Alfie!” you and Alice exclaimed in unison, which for some inexplicable reason caused the man to only grin wider.
“What?” he asked you.
“Well, I…”
“Yeah?”
“I wish you a pleasant trip, Mr. Solomons.”
“That so?”
“Yes. I mean… What do you mean?”
“Right, so you’ll miss me terribly?”
“I never said I would, I–”
“Here’s a thought, luv, why don’t ya come with us?”
When you turned away from the stove, you suddenly realised it was now just you two in the kitchen. Somehow, Alice and Mrs. Collins managed a perfectly quiet exit; no doubt to test the fresh box of makeup together.
Even more confused by the man than usual, you just about managed to sit down before you asked him again:
“Mr. Solomons, I don’t quite understand. Where will you go and why should I come with you?”
Alfie grunted as if the inquiry caused him physical suffering.
“Aye, fuck, ‘s bloody the same with this one, innit. Call me by my name, would ya?”
“I–”
“Do it and I’ll tell ya.”
“Do you suppose we’re playing a game with each other?!”
“Always.”
You didn’t particularly want to oblige him, but since his smirk was growing cheekier by the minute, it was either this or pouring hot tea on his lap.
“Alfie.”
“Yes, darlin’?”
Through clenched teeth you continued:
“Where are you going?”
“Right, luv, perhaps I never told ya, but I have that unfortunate privilege of havin’ a daughter—”
You slammed your cup back on the saucer, which managed to surprise Alfie enough to stop talking.
“You, sir, are insufferable!”
“Yeah, that takes me back…”
“Alfie!”
“Oi, what’s that now?!” He jumped out of his seat when you nearly smacked him across the head with the tea towel.
“I wanted an explanation!”
“Right, so? I’m gettin’ there, woman!”
“No more bloody tales, Alfie!” You pointed your finger at him, entirely fed up. “What in God’s name is the matter?!”
“Nothin’ ‘s the bloody matter, all right?! Fuck’s sake…”
He then did just about the last thing you expected. He reached into his pocket and produced a small box, which he then put in front of you on the table.
“What’s this?” you asked.
“Your gift.”
“I didn’t–”
“Open it.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Just bloody open it, woman, it’s not a bomb!”
“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t expect a bomb from you, Alfie Solomons,” you scoffed, but then quickly regretted the venom as soon as you opened the box and saw the gorgeous ring inside it.
“Is that…?”
“Yeah, figured you might like the colour, right, ‘cause I thought it’d match your eyes an’…”
“Are you proposing to me, Alfie?”
“Right, just as long as the rag stays where it is, yeah?” He pointed to the tea towel still firmly clasped in your hand.
Still stunned, you looked at the man and then back at the ring.
“I’m…”
“Look, she loves ya,” Alfie said quickly, as if thinking that the more he talked, the less you could refuse him. “She won’t admit it, an’ you won’t admit it, but I know it, alright, I’m her father–”
“Really…”
“Oi!”
“What?” You grinned at him, thoroughly amused by having the upper hand for once.
“Don’t ya scoff at me when I’m proposin’, right?!”
“Yes, do forgive me.”
“Yeah, you’re forgiven.”
A rare moment of silence fell between you, interrupted only by the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest. When you finally took out the ring and put it on your finger, you almost couldn’t believe it.
“Do ya like it?”
At that moment, Alfie seemed no less dazed than you.
“I love it,” you replied. “But Alfie…”
Finally addressing the elephant in the room, Alfie decided to bare himself to you once more:
“Right, an’ I love you, too. In case that wasn’t fuckin’ clear.”
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thecatfather · 1 year
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A/N: I can't stop thinking about this; Bakugou with someone older. Not much older. Just slightly. They’re acquaintances—
Bakugou is obsessed. Bakugou is fucking head over heels. You’re barely two years — three, at most — older than him. He’s awestruck. He’s so fucking infatuated with you.
As children, you were in Natsuo’s friend group and he was in Shouto’s and you all lived in the same neighbourhood and went to the same schools but he always existed in your periphery.
He was 7 the first time the two of you met, which was at Shouto’s birthday party (let’s pretend for a moment that in this alternate universe, Shouto had a normal or normal adjacent upbringing) and he was grumpy because his mother made him wear clothes he did not like and he hated that he had to go to a shitty party for his shitty friend in the shitty clothes he did not want to wear. So he sat his grumpy self away from the centre of attention, which was unusual for him too. He was having an overall bad day. This girl walks over to him — and you’re over a head taller than him — to hand him a juice box. “Drink up, The Grinch” He looks up to yell at you to go away but he opens his mouth and all that comes out is a mumbled “shitty extra”. You laugh at him and ruffle his hair. You go away only after he sticks the straw in the juice box and takes a sip.
Meeting at friends’ birthday parties becomes regular, but you rarely acknowledge each other. Every time you interact, you give him a new nickname. “Mr. Scrooge.” “Carl Friedricksen.” “Groucho Marx.”
When you look at him, you see a little grumpy dog. You find him cute but you think he’s even cuter when you’re messing with him. His cheeks go slightly red and he barely acknowledges you but never tells you to go away. It’s not like you notice any of this.
He does. He notices and it drives him mad at first. One day, when he’s fifteen, he realises he’s head over heels for you but you’re off to college in a year and he’s going to have to say something.
Turns out you’ve got a girlfriend. And she’s a megababe too— A bombshell. One look at the two of you together and he decides his ship has sailed but he at least owes it to himself to get you to stop treating him like a little kid. And unfortunately for him, Groucho Marx stuck. So you’re always referring to him by that nickname and he begins to wonder if you even know his actual name.
So he confronts you, makes sure he has your full attention. He says, “Do you even know my name?” He’s an inch taller than you now which doesn’t make much of a difference but at least he can look you in the eyes when he talks. Except… he can’t. He wants to but he can’t. He’s already red in the face and he hasn’t even said anything yet. He pretends his face is red because he ran here and tries to stand as tall as he can.
“Your… name?” you say, and huff a little soundless laugh, “Bakugou.” He just stands there, a little stumped that you know his name. This wasn’t part of his script. “…Katsuki.” you finish, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, “Everyone knows your name.”
While he stands there stupidly, a little dumbstruck, you say, “Are you… okay?” and he wonders how you have the nerve to ask him that. Of course he’s fucking not. Ugh. Stupid crush. Stupid. He feels stupid. And he’s not used to feeling stupid.
He scowls harder and you giggle a little and ruffle his hair. You start to tell him, “Listen, I gotta go but once you figure out what it is you want to say-” and he blurts out “I like you.” You smile at him, a little gentle smile and it brightens up his entire fucking world-
“Aw. I like you too! Always have.”
Fuck.
Shit. You think he likes you like a kid likes their babysitter- okay, maybe that’s a bit much. But You DON’T GET IT! And it makes him Mad.
“No you don’t get it!” He growls (or tries to) and his voice cracks a little.
You look at him, tilting your head a little, like you’re sizing him up for a fight and he says, “SAY something!”
You tell him, trying to be a little bit kinder, “I have a girlfriend. I thought you knew that, ki-”
“STOP CALLING ME KID!”
“Okay, okayy, geez.”
So he says, “Okay fuck this. Tell me one thing.”
“Yeah go on”
“Would I have had a chance? If you… you know- if you didn’t have a girlfriend?”
You want to coo at him again but you settle for bullying him a little bit and say, “You’re a child.”
He says, “So Are You!”
You sigh audibly, rolling your eyes. “Alright Groucho Marx, pay attention to what I say next because it’s important.” You pinch his cheek which has lost most of the baby fat from his younger years, and say, “Find. a girl. your age.” You tap his face twice for good measure and walk away. What a silly child. (Trust high school seniors to act like they’re already adults.)
After that severely humiliating rejection (which barely fazed you— something he’s painfully aware of), he walks away from it. From you. And never looks back.
Weeellll- maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration- For the most part, he pretends it never happened.
And eventually, he forgets about you.
I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, recorded or recommended anywhere.
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bluiex · 9 months
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Something I was working on in church.(I realise that recently I’ve been going through all my unfinished ideas and I’m write do much for each! It’s so lovely when you leave unfinished ideas for a month and when you come back your mind wants to work again!)
Don’t trust the fae next door, It’s your love he’ll steal.
Living in a forest that was rumoured to hold many faes was probably one of the dumbest things Mumbo and Scar could have ever done. But hey! The plus side is, they made a new friend!
★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★
You know, most people would think not to buy a house, that’s was extra cheap(My word!), next to forest rumoured to house one of the most dangerous hybrids. Most people would look somewhere else, they rather not have a change to lose their soul.(I’ve already sold half of mine!) Most people would’ve left the moment they saw where and how cheap it was, seeing it as s
But Mumbo and Scar aren’t most people. Actually Scar is dumber then most people.(Hey!) Mumbo was human. Just plain human, which makes him moving here even more stupid.(I’m just weak to the puppy eyes!) And Scar was half elvish, which means he’d probably survive meeting a fae, but the change of death isn’t that much lower then being human!(I can’t die! Who will take care of Jellie?!)
First few days were fine, tho things did go missing a lot.(Especially my cookies! My poor poor cookies..) Mumbo attempted to grow some vegetables, but the next day it looked like they had been bonemealed then stolen.(It’s honestly quite rude.) They tried many different ways of trying to stop whoever this thief was.(I’m telling you, it’s not Jellie! She’s just a baby.) But nothing work, even the trap had been set off and it was a really bad and obvious trap!
They would’ve moved if the house wasn’t so cheap, in a nice neighbourhood and so close to their jobs. (And no one comes to bother us cause their scared of the forest next door!) So they hatched a plan,(Wha- No! I hatched a plan! Scar made cookies!) 
The plan was simple, whenever Scar wasn’t able to work on a day, he’d wake up to snacks and drinks(Mumbo I’m telling you, it’s the same cookies I made too!)  The next time Scar wasn’t having the best day, he stayed up. But tried his hardest to look like he was asleep, then low and behold beautiful man came in as if like magic,(I would say he was be-uti-ful!) and started to check on Scar.
The man checked Scar as he was a baby wolf that broke its leg and the man was the mother trying to help it. (I- I guess that makes sense with how motherly he asks? I’m not quite sure..) He check him for any fevers or cuts, which as his name suggests, he as a lot.
[I would’ve finished it but I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and I feel like I’ll forget to send this so here! If I do finish it I might put it on ao3 or just my blog-]
I felt like doing a different writing style than usual. So it’s like the characters can hear the narrator but they can’t actually hear the narrator- idk how to explain it
-🌺🪸🥀
(please give me this power to finish my TP au- to finish anything really, i got so many wips)
Whatever this style of writing is i enjoy it. its like im talkin to someone-- anyways I LOVE THIS!! who is the man- is it Grian- is it someone else- WAH
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pen-observing · 2 years
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prompt 10 w childe 😳 congrats on 1k bestie!!!
hi hi! thank you AND sorry if this took too long but I had to wait a while for the right idea to get to me.
childe + "but friends don't look at each other like we do"
“I don’t understand’, you tell him and the Childe that stands in front of you finds it impossible to look at you. Instead, he turns away and rests his gloved hand on the top of the fire place in front of him.
Maybe it was him coming back with the same naivety he left with in a way? No matter what he went through or what mission he completed; he would come back home, to the snowflakes that were gentle when they touched his nose. And, more importantly, he would, with those same emotions, come back to you.
So what do you mean by not understanding him telling you that he would like to be something more to you? Sure, Childe thinks, as he moves his index finger to the right upper corner where some dust still lingers, maybe he reverts to some childhood innocence when he sees you again and - thanks to that - his words are not always clear.
Here, while you are sitting in his living room in the very same corner of the couch where you drew the sun with spikes when you were 4, he is more Ajax than anything else. A pure soul regardless of how untrue it sounds. The truth is, he finds it impossible not to be pure with you around. So, he turns around once again and looks at you. His hands are on his hips now as he remembers the way he sees you - the way you see him.
When did you look at him like this for the first time? Ajax thinks it was when the neighbourhood cat ran up the tree and got stuck. Yes, that was the first time your eyes shined this much looking up at him. He was brave and climbed up the tree and rescued it for you!
When did the way he looked at you change? He thinks it was probably after he got lost in the abyss and you were worried sick until he showed up. You missed him so much he genuinely felt bad as you rambled about him being reckless.
He did not like Signora at all but he appreciated her for one thing. After she saw him talking to you, she looked gentler than ever. He still remembers her words: “You look at them like someone I remember from long ago.’ Maybe that was the first time he actually realised what his emotions truly meant? Then, there was his lovely sister Tonia who found amusement in it.
“Listen, all I am saying is this-”, you think he is about to make a grand point but all he does is pout. After that, he pinches the bridge of his nose and walks over to take his place next to you on the couch. Just like he always does.
He speaks while taking off his gloves. “All I am saying it this, listen carefully.", his voice is gentle and his eyes are locked on yours. His hands find your cheeks and they have the same warmth from two years ago when he wiped some whipped cream off your face in the same manner.
It doesn’t feel odd. “You say we are friends but friends don’t look at each other like we do. Give me a chance, you won’t regret it, I promise.”
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captains-simp · 3 years
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Ummmmm........
Can I have Yelena Belova "I'll stay as long as you need me too" or Fluff number 3?
I think i got the right prompt but it's definitely fluff.
If you still are accepting these requests and you haven't already done this one yet.
Chskdjks I didn't think anyone was actually going to request anything, this sparks so much joy (all of the requests are amazing and I'm working on them all). Soft Yelena let's gooooo
"I'll stay as long as you need me to."
Warnings: injury detail and my extreme lack of knowledge regarding medical treatment
2k words
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee ☕
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hearing someone knocking at your door at 11:48 pm was never something you took much comfort in. Especially when there was no previous heads up about it.
You considered not opening door, telling yourself to continue watching your show and not think about the fact that you didn't live in the best neighbourhood.
When the knocking continued you wondered if you should call someone, anyone, but the faint and very much strained sound of your friend's voice had you sprinting across the apartment to open the door.
Yelena was leaning against the door frame, frighteningly pale and looking as tired as someone who had just fought a war on their own. Given her line of work you guessed you weren't that far off.
"Lena you...what happened?" Your eyes fell to her stomach where she was holding her blood stained shirt. You felt faint imagining how bad of an injury she had sustained.
You stumbled backwards and motioned for her to come in before you shut the door behind her and rushed to the bathroom to get your well-stocked first aid kit.
You had meant to go back to the front door to help Yelena into the bathroom but she had already made her way towards you.
"I love that you have such a small appartment." She breathed out. You smiled weakly and supported her weight as you helped her manage the final few steps to your bathroom and sat her on the edge of the tub.
"You should be thankful for the friend that owns it too." You joked as you knelt down infront of her.
"I am." Yelena was quick to say. "I really am." You smiled up at her took her hands away from her shirt before you slowly peeled it away to expose the gun shot wound. You took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of it.
"You need to go to a hospital." You said as you tried to examine it without causing your friend any extra discomfort.
"I can't." You knew better than to push that. It no doubt had something to do with her mission, which meant you weren't allowed to know.
Yelena had never made it a habit of coming to you for medical assistance - especially as you weren't a doctor or nurse. The first time you had done so was when you picked up on her strained walk. You kept bugging her about it until she finally showed you the gash on her calf. It had been easy to clean and healed quickly. After that was a deep cut on her arm, then a burn on her back, then another cut. All of which you noticed. It was only when the injuries were bad that Yelena asked for your help. Too stubborn to ask anyone else and smart enough to know she needed assistance.
You never told Yelena, but you had gone out of your way to learn a little more than the basics on dealing with injuries. Once or twice you had to sneak away from her in your bathroom to double check one of your books to make sure you were doing everything right. Whenever she asked how you knew so much you made up some lie about watching a lot of TV...okay so maybe that wasn't a complete lie.
"Where's the bullet?" You asked, confused by the absence of an exit wound.
"I took it out." Yelena mumbled, she was starting to look worse now.
"Yelena!" You scolded. "No wonder you're bleeding so much." Yelena knew better than to do that but you decided you would investigate that further another day.
You placed a cloth against the wound and held it there with one hand and bit your lip as you glanced up at her.
She's lost a lot of blood...really needs a hospital...are stitches enough?
You didn't want to leave Yelena's side for a second to check one of your books. You weren't sure stitches would cut it, the wound should have been cauterized but you had no experience with that and didn't want to try your luck. Stitches would have to do.
You prepared the needle and thread as Yelena held onto the cloth. Your hand was shaking slightly in anxiety over the situation. You wanted to hear about the mission, about who shot the blonde you cared for so deeply. She wasn't meant to tell you anything, but you needed to hear her voice and it would help her stay conscious so you tried.
"Did you get the jackass who shot you?" You asked as you started to hold the skin in place. Yelena hissed sharply before speaking.
"Of course." Even bleeding out she was smug, what else would you expect from her?
"Mmm, and the mission was a success?"
"It was." You were surprised at the confirmation. "Besides getting shot." She added. You had been trying to keep her attention off of that fact.
Yelena gripped the bathtub tightly and groaned. There had been no time for anaesthetic.
"Almost done." You assured.
You stayed in a concentrated silence as you finished the last stitch. It wasn't perfect, but you had done a good job.
You got up to get a bottle of painkillers from the cabinet and handed them to Yelena with a glass of water. She waved them away at first until she begrudgingly accepted them after a firm look from you.
You carefully cleaned the blood off of her stomach with half a dozen wipes and placed a dressing over the wound as gently as you could manage. It would need constant attention for a while and you could only hope that Yelena would stay with you in that time. You wanted her by your side until she was well. You wanted her by your side when she recovered too. That was a convosation you weren't ready for.
"Thank you, y/n." Yelena said as she struggled to keep her eyes open.
"Let's get you to bed." You said, lifting her arm over your shoulder again to help her up.
"No, you don't have to-"
"Doctor's orders." You insisted, not in the mood to deal with Yelena's stubborness when she could have bled out in your bathroom. There was still a chance that could happen. She could sense your slightly agitated tone - she was superspy and your best friend of years, so of course she could.
"Not a doctor." She muttered as you guided her to your room. You rolled your eyes but didn't manage to stop the small smile creeping onto the corner of your mouth.
"I'll take the couch." She made a move to separate from you but you held onto her waist perhaps a little too desperately to lead her to your room.
"No way."
"It's your house." Yelena said, trying to look at you but you kept your eyes forward, afraid of what she would discover when she read you.
"Then we'll both take the bed." You sighed. Yelena managed a sly smile at your words and you gently nudged her side as you sat her down on your bed. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before." You said that to yourself more than Yelena, trying not to think about how close you would be during the night and how that would probably keep you awake.
You handed her a spare pair of pajamas and went to leave for the bathroom to change and clean away when you noticed her struggle.
"Let me." You muttered in the least pitiful and condescending tone you could, knowing if she thought she heard some she would reject any further help from you. She nodded so you lifted the stained shirt over her head as carefully as you could, using her breathing patterns as a guide to tell you if she had any discomfort.
"You want that off too?" You motioned to her sports bra and averted your eyes a little too obviously from her toned stomach.
Yelena huffed when she noticed the sports bra, clearly thinking about how much of a literal pain it would be to get off.
"Just get me some scissors." You nodded and grabbed some from your desk and handed them to her, instantly turning on your heals to leave to avoid a sight that would be stuck in you head for the rest of your life.
God, y/n. Don't be such a perv. You mentally scolded as you cleaned and cleared everything away before quickly getting into your pajamas.
You knocked on your bedroom door and heard Yelena tell you you could come in.
Her discarded and very much ruined beyond saving clothes were in a surprisingly neat pile on the floor, you would deal with that the next day.
Yelena was wearing one of your shirts, which looked much better on her, and hadn't bothered with the pajama bottoms. You gulped as you realised you would be sleeping next to her in that.
"You always have your heating on way too high." Yelena mumbled, you smiled sheepishly and let the complaint go as she was clearly not having the best of days.
"I get-"
"Cold easily. I know." Yelena smiled knowingly at you as she pulled the covers over herself and layed on her side facing your side of the bed. You got in next to her and mirrored her position.
"Please don't go disappearing as soon as I fall asleep." You said with a slight pout. It wasn't like she hadn't done that before.
"I'll stay as long as you need me to." Yelena smiled reassuringly at you. You wanted to believe that, but it seemed much more likely that you would wake up without Yelena next to you the next day.
The blonde must have picked up on your skepticalism, she placed a gentle hand on your hip and the other snaked around your back. Together, they pulled you closer to her slowly until you were pressed against Yelena as she moved onto her back. One of her legs even tangled around yours to keep you close.
You didn't move for a moment, almost not trusting yourself, but eventually you gave in to what you were craving and rested your head in the crook of her neck and wrapped your arms firmly around her.
Her familiar scent engulfed you in a way that was much more reassuring than her words. This was amplified when Yelena kept her hand on your hip while the other combed through the top of your hair in the most comforting gesture you had ever seen from her much less received. You felt yourself sink into her more as you fully relaxed.
You couldn't contain the smile on your lips. Nor could you ignore the butterflies throwing a rave in your stomach. It definetly didn't help you get a handle on your ever-growing feelings for your friend, but there was no way you were going to pull away from the embrace.
In the warmth and security of Yelena's comfort it didn't take long for sleep to overtake you. You knew she was safe, as you kept brushing your fingers lightly across the part of her shirt concealing the dressing, and you knew she was there with you. It put your mind at rest better than anything else ever had.
But just as you slipped into your deep sleep you could have sworn you felt Yelena's soft lips on your forehead.
Maybe there was a chance you could fall asleep in her arms more often and maybe it could be when she was unharmed. You were unsure about a lot of things in life, but that was something you felt confident on.
And rightly so.
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Text
Life Goes On
This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.
This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.
Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.
Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.
The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 
There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.
It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.
You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.
His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.
Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.
Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.
Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.
Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.
You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.
When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 
You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.
"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."
"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."
"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."
You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.
"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."
You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.
"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."
He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.
"Sorry, I'm rambling…"
"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."
"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."
"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"
"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."
"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."
"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"
You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.
"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"
"Sure," you said.
"You got somewhere to be?"
"No…" you answered cautiously.
"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."
"You wanna talk? To me?"
"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."
"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."
"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."
"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."
🖤
That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.
“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”
“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.
“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”
You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”
“It feels… too early for that.”
“Too early?”
“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”
“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”
“Read?”
“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”
“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”
“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.
“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”
You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.
“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”
“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.
“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”
“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”
“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”
“With the kids?”
“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”
“Decide what?”
“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”
He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”
“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”
“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.
“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”
“What time?” he raised his head.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”
“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“For putting up with me.”
You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”
“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”
You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”
🖤
Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.
You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.
When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.
“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”
He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”
“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”
You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.
You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.
Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.
You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.
“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”
“But you’re still here,” you said.
“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”
“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”
“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”
“Is it too much?”
“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”
“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”
“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.
“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”
He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.
“You gotta be up early?”
“Nah, not too early.”
“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.
“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”
“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”
🖤
Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.
That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.
You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.
“You okay?” Andy asked.
“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”
“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”
“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.
You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.
Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”
“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.
“What’s wrong? You eat something?”
“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”
You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.
“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”
“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”
He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.
🖤
You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 
You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.
"Why am I here?" You asked. 
"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"
"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."
"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."
"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"
"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."
"You don't have to--"
"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."
You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."
"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."
"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."
"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."
🖤
You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.
Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.
You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.
"Andy! Andy! What--"
"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."
"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.
"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"
"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."
"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"
The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.
"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."
"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."
"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."
"Andy, you're wrong--"
"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."
He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.
"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."
He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.
"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"
The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.
"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."
You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.
"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."
🖤
You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 
Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.
"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."
"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."
"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."
He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.
"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.
You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?
🖤
He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.
You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.
"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."
“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”
He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.
“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”
“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”
“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”
“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”
“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”
“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”
“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”
“And--”
His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.
“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.
He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.
His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.
He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.
“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.
“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”
“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”
He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.
“Andy, stop, please, no--”
He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.
“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”
You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.
“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”
He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.
He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.
He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”
“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”
“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”
Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.
“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”
Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.
The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.
Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.
He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”
“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.
“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”
His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 
He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.
He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.
“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”
He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.
“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”
766 notes · View notes
starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
Note
Hey!!! I'm so glad you liked the blurb night idea :) 💞 Can I request a blurb with Peter bumping into the reader while she's kinda lost at times square and he's dressed as spiderman so he tries to flirt with you, but it makes you laugh instead?
I loved the idea hun, thankyou sm for helping me with this idea xxx
“You’re a guy?”
Pairing | Peter Parker x reader
Summary | based on the request
Warnings | mentions of crime, brief mention of death and drugs, mention of sex
2K blurb masterlist
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
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“And there was this girl. She was really pretty, but-“ May quirked her head at her nephew, hardly understanding his blabber as he sped through his words like he was racing verbally against a cheetah, though, she was manage to uncover that particular sentence.
“Whoa, slow down kiddo.” His aunt laughed lightly, bracing her shoulders on his arms as he caught his overexcited breath. “How about you start from the beginning, and take a breath?” May had much practice with calming the boy down, she sincerely remembered how that night his parents had dropped him off, how worried he had been for them not to return. And they didn’t.
Peter bobbed his head in a eager nod, doing as he was recommended by his legal guardian, puffing the air in through his cheeks, as he inhaled and exhaled normally through his nose.“I was out patrolling the city, checking out for any bad guys, and then, I saw her...” her, the girl that had captured his attention, and distracted him from his friendly neighbourhood duties. She was much like a magnet, pulling his north face into her axis spinning world, distracting him from the things that he was actually meant to be ensuring did not happen on his watch.
“Weren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” The elder of the two quirked a brow, earning a splutter of a response from the teenager under her roof. She wasn’t a strict guardian concerning his heroic antics, though, she made sure to keep him on track for his own sake. Peter had quite the tendency to become overrun with stress from the amounts of responsibilities that he took on, and him being only young did not help the situation.
“I’m getting to that!” He was fast to defend himself, huffing his chest in as he prepared to tell May his story, from the beginning. It was quite the tale, he’d say, combined with the embarrassment of his own presence entangled in the random and friendly interaction that he had felt promiscuously lulled to create.
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Queens, it was new to you. There were so many streets, filled to the brim with people that seemed to know where they were going. Unlike them, you didn’t, in fact, you’d go as far to admit that you were lost. Lost in a place that was known for the chaos that wrapped it off with a tarnished bow, and made the collateral practically fashion within its various newspapers that rounded every corner to divulge their companies’ obscure theories.
A panicked look struck your eyes, as you turned, shaking your head and pressing through the mass of citizens and finding an empty lot, scrolling through your phone, diverting your attention quickly towards google maps. It was the only thing that you could think of, it’d be a shame if you were to disturb one of the many passersby from their clearly packed schedule; you did not need that, nor berating them on your conscience.
“You lost or something?” A voice asked, making your shoulders jump as a figure, twisted in the colours red and blue, with a seam of black fell from the roofs above. Your heart rate imploded, more so when you realised who the mask wearing vigilante was. The wearer, although unknown, was infamous for the successions of saving lives that they had participated in, including defending the galaxy against outside threats.
It was Spiderman, the neighbourhood dubbed avenger, that tried their utmost to return stolen or lost bikes to their rightful owners, and protected banks from armed and overnight robberies. There was known to be something different about this particular hero, they were young and clearly had time to improve their skill set, for they were quite the clutz, and spoke significantly more to those he faced off against than what was necessary.
But this one hero, stood out amongst the rest. Not only was their suit designed by Stark technology, as you had written about in a work article, but it was far more concealing, and not to mention restricting, for the person beneath the red concoction to wear. Yes, you were in town for a new job, specifically to delve into the details that regards the world of heroes, and exploit all possible angles to how they deserved as much recognition for their stunts, as the president received for his noble speeches.
“I-“ you paused, think back over what you were preparing to say. It was without a doubt, that you had not expected the vigilante to appear in your spectacle gaze the first time that you stepped foot on the premises that he roamed, and protected. But here the spider enthusiast was, leaping down to stand beside you, burdening you with more knowledge that you could use, such as the person beneath was not as tall as you had expected, and there was definitely no way you could see their true eyes through the shallow white cases that covered them.
That was something you could write about, and make various descriptive theories about. ‘Seeing in white vision, sparked by the purity that glazed their unknown signature irises, Spider-Man halts all with the sparing of their true self. They may have reasons for shielding their eyes, much like Daredevil, not needing to see when they are overcome with various other senses that convulse their body into attentiveness,” -no, that sounded absolutely terrible.
And not to mention, if you spread that horrid writing about, Murdoc would be ashamed of ever deciding to get your aid in uncovering the route of the villainous underworld, that had take over Hell’s Kitchen and turned it into their own ring for drugs and more. The battle of New York had many repercussions, that being one, another influencing you into the career choice of being said reporter that you now proclaimed yourself as.
“Yeah, I am.” You responded with the company of a smile, and Peter swore he could feel his heart convulse beneath his suit. It’s pace was vaguely rapid, disheartening him from thinking of any more to say, he was practically speechless. “I’m looking for New York Times, you ever heard of it?” Yes, he most definitely had, it was the average run of the mill newspaper company, though, he did not know that you intended to change that into something much more.
“Funnily enough I have.” He scratched the back of his head, his arm subconsciously flexing as he did so, feeling like he had failed as your eyes remained focused on the wideness of his suit’s intense eyes. “It’s about three blocks from here, I could take you there if you want, I have nothing more to do.” From his proclamation you quirked a brow, crossing your arms amusedly.
“Don’t you have a city to watch over?” You asked, watching as Spider-Man’s false eyes widened, and he visibly panicked, realising that you had been right. “I’ll find my way, I’ve been to New York, many a time, Queens is bound to be a piece of cake. Also, a map is always handy.” A shrug rippled off your shoulders, Peter watching and walking closer as he thought of something more to add to the initial acquainting conversation.
“I’m Spider-Man.” Inwardly, and beneath his mask, Peter cringed noting how his voice rose, and it could be perceived as boasting. That though was definitely not his intent in the slightest, but he worried of how it may have come across to you. He wasn’t sure how you may have read it as, but a swarm of relief filled his lungs as he watched the corner of your eyes crinkle up, humoured by the tone of his that had significantly heightened. “Im a guy by the way.”
He felt the need to state that, especially considering people’s perceptions in the past. But instantly after saying it, he was regretful, through, he had to admit, he enjoyed listening to you laugh, it was like a melody that he wanted to listen to until the end of time. “You’re a guy?” You released a dramatic gasp, aiding your phoney response. “Yeah, no. I completely thought that you were a girl.” Sarcasm, he had well gotten used to frequency of it thanks to Mr Stark, who... well, he wasn’t around any more.
“You’re funny.” He smiled, shaking his head whence he realised that you could not see his hidden expression. “I don’t know, maybe, would you like to go to coffee with me, if you have time before you have to get to the news place? I mean, I don’t drink that much coffee, I get told that if I have too much caffeine that I get a little hyper, but I mean, I’m trying to ask you out and I have a really bad track record of-“
“Sure.” You spoke, ignoring the map that had finally loaded onto the screen of your phone. It was to your luck that you weren’t required to make your presence known at the business until tomorrow, and there was always time to kill, so you thought screw it, and decided to find it so that you didn’t get lost the approaching day. “Are you going to be wearing that, or you know, take it off?” You pointed at him, making peter surprised.
“It’s not that kind of date.” He quickly responded. “I meant just for a drink, not to hook up in the back of an a- oh, you meant the suit, didn’t you.” With a roll of your eyes, you nodded, pursing your lips together, as Peter felt the rain of relief once more. “Oh, that’s good, not that I wouldn’t want to, you’re gorgeous, that just wasn’t my intent and I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”
“Basically.” You wrinkled your nose, with a laugh, the way you scrunched it up was adorable to Peter. “So I’ll meet you here in two hours, I’ll let you finish up your duties, and change into something that doesn’t make you look you’re wearing a thong, because I can tell you from experience that those things are not comfortable. That good for you Spidey?”
“That works.” He spoke, trying his best to contain his overflowing excitement, biting his lip to do so. “That definitely works.”
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“Hi.” The familiar voice of Spider-Man spoke, and you turned around, watching as a young man, not much different in age from yourself rounded the corner. He was clothed in a blue and white chequered flannel, and grey jeans, and you had to say, that whilst the amazing Spider-Man was quite the sight, this was something else.
“Oh, I was waiting for a girl actually.” You informed him, clearly messing with him, as you walked closer, a stretching smile pinning up the corners of your lips. “But I guess you’ll do webslinger.” He could feel his heart racing, but he walked closer, watching as you eyed him, a stranger met with the sight of a vigilante unmasked. “Where to, red and blue?”
“There’s this really good place on main, they sell the best sandwiches. And trust me, once you buy from there, you won’t stop...” the two of you began to walk away together, and towards Peter’s secret destination, where the two of you learnt the others real name.
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makoodlesarchive · 4 years
Text
bad dragon
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here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway
honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace
pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader
word count: 10k
warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference      OR     check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!
Tip Jar!
  dragon dick kiri masterlist!
                            »»————- ♡ ————-««
Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.
The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.
Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.
You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.
And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him. 
At least, that was until one afternoon.
April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.
Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”
Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.
You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.
A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”
You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”
Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”
“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”
“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.
“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed?  Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?
Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”
“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”
Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”
“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.
You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh. 
God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?
You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.
When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.
“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”
Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.
You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”
“Bakugou said you were upset.”
That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”
“I’m coming in, okay?”
“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”
“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”
“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.
“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”
“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”
“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”
Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”
“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”
Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”
“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”
When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”
You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”
“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”
“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”
“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.
You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.
“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”
A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”
You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”
“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”
You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”
“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”
Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”
“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”
“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”
Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”
Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”
The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”
“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss. 
He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”
“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.
“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”
“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”
Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.
You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”
He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”
Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.
You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.
“Oh.” you breathe.
“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.
“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.
You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.
“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”
The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”
“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”
The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.
You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.
“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”
You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.
When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.
“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”
“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on. 
“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.
“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.
You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.
“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.
How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.
Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.
You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.
Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.
You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”
When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”
“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.
You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”
Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”
“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.
He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”
“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.
Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”
“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.
As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.
_________________________
Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.
Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”
“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.
No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.
He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.
He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.
High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them. 
When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go. 
You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.
Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.
He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”
You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.” 
Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”
“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.
“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”
You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”
“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”
His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.
Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.
“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.
In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.
You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”
Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.
“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”
“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”
You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”
Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.
“Unless you’d like to wait?”
“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”
It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.
His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.
“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”
Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants. 
You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.
He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit. 
You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.
When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”
“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”
Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”
“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.
As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”
Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”
Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.
The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in. 
Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”
“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”
“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”
The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”
You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.
“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”
His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him. 
Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.
His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”
“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”
Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly. 
When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”
Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.
It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished. 
He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”
You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”
“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.
You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”
With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”
“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”
A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”
The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”
It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.
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samuclit · 3 years
Text
Love Foolish
miya atsumu x reader
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, mature, a little smut (define little on your own), 7.8K words
Summary: Miya Atsumu didn't realise that he was actually counting the days he spent with you while being your boyfriend. The step-process to how your relationship with him rekindles every time a new day begins was not as apparent as it seems to be, but he sure knew that the dreaded day when it comes to an end will never come.
This is an old piece that I worked on last year...I am terribly sorry for the way I post this fic I am not good with tumblr yall this is harder than my degree 
........................
Day 153
Atsumu was exhausted. He just got back from training with the college team for a few weeks already. He needs to catch up with the college team even though the time he spent away was used for his training with the MSBY Black Jackals team. He was advised by his family members, team coach and his friends that he should not miss out on any practice without a valid reason and should diligently claim his spot on both teams with the most outstanding effort and attitude so he followed, believed that this is for the best in order to build his volleyball career he was always so passionate about since he was in middle school. If only Osamu joins him, he thinks it won’t be as draining as it is right now.
Everyone in college knows Miya Atsumu, he is too perfect. The handsome look, tall and built figure, his diligence in both studies and shaping his career, to top it all off he is charming and is a ladies’ man. He could make every girl fall for him the instant he flashes his smirk that has been scientifically proven to be a bait for everyone in this universe. One small talk he could get girls on his bed, spending the whole night snogging off each other and leaving them whenever he got annoyed with the sudden disturbance. You happen to be one of the girls who got in his bed, goes on several dates with him, but this time you were one of the people who last longer than a week, and then a month and few more months after that. He assumes and waits for you to be the one ending the relationship but it won’t even come, and he is already tired of waiting.
So, he makes you tired. He doesn't want anything to be on his way at all, and you in the equation is making him disturbed at some times. During the first few weeks of dating, you often invite him for a date at the coffee shop which he obliges only for the reason to not break your feelings even though he has some tasks which are more important at hand. You are nice, but he isn’t. He told Suna that you deserve better. 
It has also been roughly two weeks since he last talked to you, and deep in his heart he kind of wants your nagging presence around him, just to distract him from the truckload of stress he’s carrying on his shoulders. So he texted you.
You: [Name], are ya coming or not. Been thinking of binging that Netflix series you’ve been babbling about.
[Name]: Ah sorry, it’s girls’ night with Midori and her gf. 
You: I see. Have fun. 
Seen.
That’s weird. You said it yourself that you wanted to binge on the weekends with him, after he finished with this practice for the week, and also he thinks that’s just you trying to make up with him after your first argument with him. It is...nobody’s fault, he thinks. He doesn’t want to blame himself and you, partially because you were really upset that day that you raised your voice and he didn’t chase you after you ran out of the apartment. It is just a silly argument. He doesn't want to think about it that much. 
As he took a shower and dressed himself in a fresh new pair of t-shirt and black sweatpants, he plopped himself on the sofa and went through Netflix to find something worth watching. He saw the show you wanted to watch ; Pretty Little Liars. Ah it’s not even a Netflix series, it’s just a series which is available on Netflix. Seems like he wasn’t even attentive to what you said. 
Before he falls asleep, he walks down the memory lane, to remember how exactly you and Atsumu could last this long in a relationship.
Day 0
The party seems to be a hit! His seniors on the volleyball team joined hands with the football team to conduct a party to celebrate post-sports festival of Tokyo U that happened for a week long and the party is held at the dorms outside of the campus so the board of education won’t meddle, with the promise that there aren’t drugs involved. Which is okay, the athletes are supposed to stay away from drugs and they’re disciplined enough to consider their life decisions. 
He was simply just hanging around in the living room of the dorm, which is a terrace house in a neighbourhood a few kilometres away, talking to his friends, Suna and Komori, who are his teammates in the college team. Komori used to go to the same Youth Camp with Atsumu so they knew each other since then. “Huh, sick party. I didn’t think there would be too many people here.” Komori said as he chugs down his cold beer, swaying a little after he finishes with a slightly long chug. “Senpai said just the athletes of the college are invited, but it seems like the whole campus crashed together. Lunatics.” Atsumu said as he plopped down on the bean bag and leaned his head back. Suna calls out.
“Oi, Midori is here. I invited her.” Atsumu is familiar with Midori, he has never been close with her but he knows of her since they went to the same high school together. The three pairs of eyes went towards the door together to greet Midori, with you tailing behind her. “Hey, glad ya made it!” Suna lunges forward and grabs Midori in a hug. “Yeah, cool place, I’m sorry I don’t have a plus one to bring with so I just drag my friend along. Hey, this is [Name]. Go say hi and be friends!” Midori pushed the other girl, which he heard to be [Name], also a familiar name. “Oh wait...you guys must have not have known about her...we went to the same school man...” Midori pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. It is sad that not many people know about small girls like [Name] that much. 
Indeed, you went to the same school and you’re in a completely different league than Atsumu, he was and still is the famous athlete that has the entire girls’ population wrapped around his fingers. You’re around the circle of...top scorers who are active in volunteers and some other stuff Atsumu was not into. “Oh, is she another one of your hockey teammates?” you continue hiding behind Midori’s taller frame. Midori pulled you away and hugged your waist, giving support. “Come on now, babe say hi, they’re our friends” you glared at her with a smug look. “Hye, it’s [Name]. I’m not an athlete, I’m a political science major, pleasure to meet ya” your eyes tried to glance from Suna to Komori and to Atsumu but you averted your eyes away from him as soon as it landed on him. You look cute in just a rock concert t-shirt with black jeans shorts and plain converse. Classic party look, but you are not the type to go to parties because...assignments and stress are getting through you  which explains why you’re all fidgety. Midori knows there’s more to that, cause you’re a very wild extrovert at some time.
“Hey, enjoy the party, drinks and snacks are down there, the toilet is on another end, help yerself.” Atsumu pats on your shoulder and moves past you to greet his other friends who crashed the party. You’re petrified, to say the least and moved quick on your heels to head to the bathroom for some reality check. The environment is overwhelming. 
Atsumu gets tired easily even after downing a can of beer but he isn’t exactly drunk. He is just tired with the lots of conversations and the girls from other courses trying to talk to him, wanting the conversation in a bedroom which he said no to, he is a responsible man. He is not going to do it with them when in their drunken stupor. However, his endless denials are stopped with a sudden disturbance right in front of him.
Midori is on a couch, with a girl and was playing with her hair and occasionally rubbing her thigh and before they closed in someone threw a beer cup at Midori. “What the hell? Leave me alone!” Midori turned his body to see a bulked up guy whose name Atsumu doesn’t remember behind the couch, looming over the two figures sitting on the couch. It’s going to get ugly. 
“What the fuck, you leave us alone! Why the hell are homos here. Get out!”  Midori and the poor girl trembles in fear and Atsumu wants to blow a kick so bad but he can’t move because of the girls that are around him. Before he tried to push the girls away, he saw you moving towards him, taking away the beer can he has in his hands. “I’m sorry I’m taking this!” Your eyes had a small fire ignited in it and he can’t help but gave away his beer can, and then he saw you walking up on the couch and on to the head rest, spit into the beer and pours the beer all over the homophobic guy who slandered your friend. The guy was drenched and screamed because the beer was icy cold and it came to contact with his skin that got heated from way too much alcohol consumed. 
“Oh, I am very sorry, I was convinced that this big hunk of muscle is a trash can!” you screamed with an evil laughter and the whole party laughed and cackled at the sight of the giant asshole from Engineering talking shit about the woman adored by the majority of campus. Midori is your best friend, a very kind, beautiful  and valid lesbian friend of yours. You would do anything to protect her from the touch of homophobic devils that would insult her every now and then. It has been happening more recently after she got out of the closet, even when she was inside all this time, you have always given her tons of support and protection because it’s just something about you. Midori was already smiling and got herself up away from the sofa with the girl she was with, hands holding hers tightly. 
“You punk! Are ya crazy? Do ya want me to kill ya like I kill your friend here?” your figure who had one leg propped on the head rest while the other on the couch went tense and is about to fall and the nasty asshole grabbed you by the neck, having you lifted in the air and no one helped to stand against him except Midori who was pulling your body before the guy fully grasped your entire neck in his hands. Before he even pressed harder on your throat, Atsumu landed a punch on his face, making himself knocked down on the floor. You already fell flat on the couch, trying to regain your breath. He warns the guy off and he immediately leaves after. 
“Shit shit, are you okay?” Atsumu kneels on the floor to check up on you, who were lying on the couch, still coughing out and trying to calm down. Midori ran to get some water for you. “I’m fine, fine, where's Midori? Is she okay?” Midori hit you in the arm. “Idiot. I am fine but look at you, I told you I’m alright, if you give them attention and piss them off they will harm you, look what happened.” Midori cries and hugs you. Atsumu checked up on your face, saw tiny drops on the edge of your eye which got wiped away the instant Midori wrapped her arms around you. “I told you  I will always protect you okay, I promised you that” Midori looked at your face again and was still sobbing. She turns towards Atsumu who stood by them. Suna and Komori arrived in the space after making sure the guys had run off. The party went back to normal and it’s chaos again. 
“Thank you, Atsumu, if it weren’t for you, I don’t know what would happen to the both of us.” The girl from before is rubbing her hands on Midori’s back trying to calm her down. “No, [Name] did the most fight, I only come in when it gets physical. I let ya know when I see that guy again I am going to beat the living shit out of him. Nasty jackass.” Atsumu’s rage calms down when he sees you and Midori laugh, finally he makes a safe space for you and her. After some minutes of calming down and talking and giggling Midori takes the cue to leave. “I think I need to go now, need to take some air, you should, too, babe. Love you” Midori hugged and left with the girl she was with the entire time during the party.
Atsumu has long left you and Midori alone when you were busy talking to her, so he goes away somewhere to talk with some of the boys from the football club. They heard something about how that guy is a maniac and has been expressing his hate crimes for several years now, basically a loser and Atsumu thinks his sucker punch is something he could take pride in. After he saw Midori take off with the girl he saw you heading towards the door that linked to the backyard. More people were there, some were laying on the ground doing some unnecessarily lewd stuff that Atsumu does not want to remember.
He saw you taking a seat on one of the stools that was set up for guests to sit. He brought a can of beer, intended to give you. As he approaches you were rubbing around the area on your throat which the bully from before had pressed on. You were still in pain. “Hey, needa drink?” Atsumu hands over the beer while he sits down on the stool next to you. “Ah, I’m sorry I don’t...drink around guys. Trust issues.” Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows and he finally got what you were trying to say. “Oh, I totally get it, I’m sorry.” You were a flustered mess. You didn’t intend to actually...reject a kind offer from him but it’s a strange new place and strange new environment, though you knew Atsumu from high school to be quite a decent person that you– “[Name]? Are ya okay? Ya were about to say something earlier?” “Oh, yeah. You don’t have to apologise, we can just go for drinks some other times'' you let out a small laugh and he smiles. Awkward.
“Ya don’t have to worry about that guy, I heard someone is going to report him to the dean. He’ll be out in no time” you smirked. “Good! Midori must be happy”. The both of you laughed and the  conversation continued randomly, topics about his volleyball activities and you popping in some random thoughts about life to him, it makes him feel weird at first but he picks up after quite some time.
And the night goes with you spending your night with him on his small bed in the apartment he shared with his other friends. Kisses are littered all over your body and Atsumu leads you through your first intimate session with so much ease and gentleness. He left an especially passionate kiss on the neck that tells the stories of your fight and trauma, hoping that he could kiss it away and replace it with the memories of your first. “Are ya really sure about this?” Atsumu asked at one point when you were making out with him on his lap just right after he got you in his room. “Please, do what you want” and Atsumu continues to ravish you and pulls on every article that trapped your beautiful untouched body. 
The morning he woke up, you were sleeping soundly, despite the uncovered chest you had on display cause you fell asleep after the second round of fucking you had no chance to clean up or put on a shirt. The messy hair and arousing look you had on aside, you look too peaceful to be on someone’s bed, someone who you have known for a long time but have only gotten close from an impromptu encounter so Atsumu threw the plans of getting out of bed aside and continues watching the small details on your face. He would pick up the falling strands of your hair and tucks it behind your ear, trailing his fingers on the swollen lips you had after making out with him the entire night. He enjoys your presence. He likes it, being with you, so this is all worth it. 
As your eyes fluttered open, squinting because of the bright sun, which was now covered by Atsumu’s hands to help you get back to sleep without the disturbance. You woke up anyway. “Atsumu, what are ya doing?” you asked, trying to pull the blanket that barely covers your naked front. “Just letting a princess continue her peaceful sleep” you were blushing, it feels like a dream to wake up with Atsumu next to you, so you lean into him more and he tackles you under the sheets. As Atsumu closes in again, about to kiss you like he did the previous night before, your eyes widened and you pushed him away, rolling out of bed naked. You pulled the blanket to cover yourself and scrammed to find your underwear and outfit from last night. “Fuck, fuck I’m late shit I gotta go” you were clasping your bra and putting on your underwear as you continue with your series of cuss words picked up at random. “What’s going on are you okay? Was it–“ you put on your jean shorts and looked at him. “No-no I’m late to a group discussion and I am going to die I think.” You already had your phone in hand with your bag in hand running to the door. Atsumu put on his sweatshirt and training shorts in a haste, offering to give you a ride. 
“Hey, I can help ya get to yer spot with my car. Don’t have ta rush'' you gaped and mumbles thousands of gratefulness and lunges forward to hug but stopped yourself. In the car you were on a phone call with one of the people in your group and you immediately spilled the idea you had in mind in a heartbeat. Atsumu has been driving nowhere so he stops and parked his car at the parking space of the nearby McDonald’s. After several arguments and reasons to have your opinion accepted you finally heaved a relief and ended the call with another apology. 
“Yer quite a persistent one aren’tcha?” you looked at him, face messy, unclean and tired. The post-sex glow seems to not work with everyone. “Yeah, there’s an event and I’m in charge. I was so caught-off guard. Pretty sure they will kick me out if they don’t accept my idea but guess not!” you laughed and smiled gleefully. Pure satisfaction whenever people acknowledge us. Atsumu understood that much. “So...since you don’t have to go...breakfast?” Atsumu points his thumb to the back of the car, which was the entrance to the McDonald’s. “No...I stink so much...but I am hungry so....drive-thru?” Atsumu smiles and puts down the handbrake. “Sure thing, princess”.
After you both got your respective breakfast meal set, Atsumu takes off to the lake and brought you together with him to eat on the benches. Atsumu enjoys the company as much as you did. What starts off with a random conversation of how the duck is limping, to talking about the fluffiness of the poodle someone took for a walk turns into a conversation about each others’ personal lives.
“If anything, virginity is a social construct to put down women, so if you think last night is fun just because of that, I am going to berate your entire existence” you warn him, mouth full with the breakfast muffin. “Sure, what’s fun about last night is that you’re hot and I like you.” Atsumu closes in, trying to make you feel more flustered. “You...like me?” you were blushing and he guessed that his classic method works. “Can say that, I don’t usually have breakfast with people I sleep with, so I think that’s how I know.” You scoffed as his smug smile grew wider. “Oh you’re quite a cheesy one. So, this isn’t just a one time thing?” you looked over to him. He said no and continued kissing you like he meant it. 
Days after that, the dates are frequent, spending the night in his apartment is a routine, watching movies is a norm and the intimate sessions get more interesting for the past few months, he thinks he needs to tell you all about his fantasy and you told him yours and both wishes are fulfilled.
Day 150
Atsumu woke up from the nap, the movie was already finished by then. He reached for his phone which was ringing non-stop. He's going to puke his brains out. Midori was the one calling him. There are around 7 missed calls coming from Midori.
“Oi pisshead, your girlfriend’s drunk. Come and pick her up.” Atsumu looks at the time
10.50
“Didn’t last that long?” Atsumu giggles. Midori snapped. 
“I’m being serious. She gets crazier now you need to pack her up. I can’t because my girlfriend is as shit-faced drunk right now.” Midori starts to call out your name to get off the table. Whatever that happened it must have been really shitty what’s going on down there at the bar.
“Okay, just text me the address I’m on my way” Atsumu took his wallet and car keys with him, all fresh to fetch your drunk ass home. 
As soon as he arrived he stormed to the booth which you and Midori sat at. You were already lying down on the couch, fast asleep and giggling as you sleep. “Okay you’re here. I’m going home with my girlfriend so you take care of her properly.” Midori sat herself at the couch you were sleeping on. “[Name].....I’m going now so take care okay! Love you goodnight!” you were whining so loudly at her. “Nooooo....Midoriiiii-chan I am going to miss you don’t leave me” you were pouting and whining and hug Midori to prevent her from going. Atsumu stood at the side watching the mess unfold. “Your boyfriend is here to pick you up! Goodbye!” Midori dragged her girlfriend away and got out of the bar.
“Midori’s good at lying. There’s no way my boyfriend cares ‘bout me” Atsumu covers his face in shame because the other customers at the bar are looking at you. “Who are ya...are you a stranger? Can I call you Mr Stranger? You look handsome.” You giggled and Atsumu laughed at your cuteness. This is certainly a new side to you, he has never seen you turn into a giant ball of fluff before. “Okay now cmon Miss [Name] let’s get ya home.” Atsumu swooped your legs in his right hand while the other supported the small back of your body. Your eyes are still squinting which must be the reason why you can’t recognise Atsumu yet. 
“I miss my boyfriend Mr Stranger. I want to see him...please take me to see him pleassseeeee.” You buried your face in his chest and held on to the cotton string of his hoodie. “Oh yeah? Is he really that handsome?” he puts you in the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt. “He is! His hair colour is a bit funny, Midori said it makes it look like he bathed in piss” Atsumu got that too many times already. “But in my very personal point of view, it is kind of biased, he rocks that look. He looks hot!” Atsumu blushed and proceeded to head to the driver’s seat. It’s you and your habit of expressing too many opinions again. He liked this one. He also misses your constants chit chat after a whole month of not talking to each other because of a petty argument. He admits that he misses you so much, but a jerk like him won’t admit it. He’s going to break up with you anyway.
As he continues driving he would listen to what you said about ‘your boyfriend’ and he would sometimes smirks and whispers an ‘I know’ and sometimes it is too loud you caught him in the act. The night drive seems fun with you, and he figures you are still too drunk and even with too much talking your body stays the same. You fell asleep at some point, when he is close to the apartment you resided in. He found out after quite some time that Midori moved into her girlfriend’s apartment so now you live alone. 
Even after he arrives at the apartment complex he lets you take some time to sleep, and as time passes by and it’s getting later into the night, he shakes your shoulder to wake you up. 
“Hey, [Name], we’re here.” Atsumu smiles as you yawn and stretches your limbs.
“Mr Stranger? I have a secret. Can I tell you...I’m afraid to tell anyone.” You said after some time. Atsumu had no idea what to do. So he just played along. “Yeah, I promise I will keep it.” Atsumu laughs and looks at you. 
“I think my boyfriend doesn’t love me. I kind of got the gist of it for a long time...but...now I am convinced. I think...the next time I see him, will be the last time I see him. And I–I don’t wanna” you cried immediately, you were sobbing too hard and you covered your face with the both of your palms. Atsumu is shattered especially, what you said was true. He might break it off when time comes, but seeing your heart broken and giving up the usual happy and chaotic smile and laughter you had because of the thought of breaking up with him, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. So he asked further. He needs to know more, he needs to know why. Why do you catch up to what he was thinking so fast? 
“W-why is it?” Atsumu choked on his breath. His heart was thumping so loudly, and it was beating off the charts. “He seems to not want me around...I tried my best to give him space, time for himself  but....he never wants a time wimme....and then...I-he-he don’t want to see me even when he is free”. You continue crying in the silent car, Atsumu wanted to reach your hands but he knew that would be such an asshole thing to do since he is the one causing this mess. Atsumu got out of the car and opened the door from your seat. “Hey hey let’s get you to your apartment okay?” Atsumu unbuckled the seat belt and you kept on crying, you pulled on his sweater and gripped it so tightly and wailed like a baby into his chest. He sighed and embraced you in a tight hug, calmly rubbing the small of your back trying to calm you down. 
After quite some time only the sniffles could be heard. You start talking again. “You know...I’d rather see him happy even if it means I need to break up with him. Ah I’m so dramatic for no reason. Can you help...carry me to my apartment, Mr Stranger?” you pulled away from his hug, makeup ruined and eyes red. Atsumu smiled and nodded at you. “Of course, I’ll carry you.” He carried you in a manner when he hugs your tiny body to carry you to the bed during one of those nights he needed a release. This closeness to your warm body, and the earlier event that happened of you confessing to a complete stranger about him, he is regretting it. 
Day 125
Atsumu just got home from South Korea. He was there for a training camp with the home team there because one of his coach from the MSBY Black Jackals used his connections with an old friend to conduct a camp for them to further polish the players’ skill in the said sport. It would be a great chance for him to bloom more than how he is after his successful debut as a Div. 1 League player. 
He was simply relaxing around after two days and Osamu was cooking plenty of food for the gang. Osamu invited some friends of his, and Suna brought his girlfriend with him. Komori was there too, with his cousin. When Osamu asked if he was going to invite you, Atsumu shrugged and said no, he wants to relax without you around. Even if you are around you would never go that far to make him uncomfortable. He still hasn’t called you yet even when he landed in Tokyo two days before. 
“Atsumu, didn’t ya miss yer girlfriend? Just tell her to come over.” Osamu said from the kitchen, bringing a pot of stew he made for the gang and putting it on the table. “Nah, she didn’t even know I’m in Tokyo.” Everyone in the living room looks at him. “Miya you’re kinda an asshole for that” Komori said as he passed a bowl to Suna and his girlfriend. “Cmon now don’t look at me like I’m a criminal or sumn...I just want to relax I’ll tell her later.” Atsumu scoffed and leaned his back to the sofa as he was sitting on the carpet.
“Are you...joking. She came by practice the other day, said she can’t reach you.” Sakusa said as he put down his mask aside and dug in. Atsumu knew that. He purposely ignored your text and calls and only left a message when you’re offline or when he knows you were sleeping. He doesn't want distractions. “Yer a prick, [Name]’s really nice and ya can’t see that. If ya got issues just break up already.” Suna speaks and his girlfriend agrees. “Yeah for real, if Rintarou had issues I know he is going to leave my ass in the streets. But I’m glad he has no problems. As a woman I will honestly kick you in the ass, ya know, that woman with woman solidarity.” Suna kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and Atsumu scoffed. “I know, I just don’t know the right time yet.” Komori already mumbles a series of cuss words,  Osamu and Suna sigh and Suna pulls his girlfriend back from kicking Atsumu in the face. Sakusa heard a doorbell and reached for the door now to open.
“[Name]?” Sakusa screams in shock. Speaking of the witch. Well, you’re not a witch, you’re the sweetest person ever that happens to be Atsumu’s unlucky girlfriend. “Hey Sakusa-san! Nice to see you! I brought something!” you waltzed in the door and headed to the kitchen you’re already familiar with. Atsumu felt his guilt eating his insides. Who the fuck called you here? 
Komori puts his phone up so Atsumu can see. Komori smirks at him and Atsumu flashes out the middle finger to him. Sakusa mumbles and points at Atsumu, he said somewhere along the lines of you solve this on your own, Miya! 
Osamu headed to greet you first. “Hey Osamu, I brought some home made dorayaki for you and Atsumu. You guys love it right?” Osamu smiles and thanked you endlessly. You smiled but as you looked at the awkward little Atsumu behind Osamu you stopped smiling. He headed towards you and Osamu knows it’s his cue to leave the both of you in the kitchen.
“Hey, how’s South Korea?” Atsumu sat on the chair of the kitchen island. “Twas good. The food there, they’re amazing.” You hummed. “Glad you enjoyed it. Maybe I would know more if you actually answer my calls and texts about how busy you are and tell me when you arrived. But it seems like you don’t miss me that much.” You sighed. 
“[Name], I’m just...I’m sorry I need time for myself I’m so tired.” You looked at him, sad and gloom covering your whole body like the dark blue cardigan you had around you. “Tired of me or of practice?” you asked and reached for the tips of his fingers. “That’s–that’s not it, okay. Please give me some time.” Atsumu pleaded, you flinched when he suddenly glared at you. 
After some time, you released a deep breath and headed to the door. “Enjoy the dorayaki guys, I hope I don’t interrupt you guys. I’m sorry and please take care of Atsumu for me.” You opened the door and headed out. Atsumu is still in his seat. When the door was slammed he got up and sat himself back on the carpet around his friends. He picks up his chopsticks and pulls the omelette Osamu made. Everyone was staring at him.
“Eat your food and stop staring at me.” Atsumu rolled his eyes and ate more food on the table. “Ya don’t even want to chase her?” Osamu asked from beside him. “Nope.” Komori scoffed. 
“Just want you to know she got here by bus alone. I don’t know if it helped change your mind.” Komori said and drank his cold lemon tea he poured for himself. Atsumu stopped chewing and clenched his jaw, looking at Komori.
“The one who ruined lunch is you, Atsumu.” Suna’s girlfriend said and Suna agreed. So does everyone else. 
You don’t leave a text to Atsumu to the day he picked you up from the bar. He only texted you because he wants to end the relationship.
Day 153
Atsumu still has you in his arms. You’re already asleep, face still drenched with tears. He struggled with the pin to your apartment but picks up after a while of thinking. It is his birthday. 
Atsumu realised he is a bigger asshole than how he was minutes ago in the car as he remembered that he had never come to your apartment. Months of relationship it was always his place as you always preferred his place over yours and he thinks that maybe if he was the one giving in more effort to be the one going all the way to your apartment to spend time with you, he would have felt  better about himself. Normal dates outside are very rare aside from lunch or a quick grab of coffee before classes because he was too busy with his practices and you with your duties as a political science student.
He carried you to what he assumed to be your bedroom, carefully putting your body on the bed, taking off the leather jacket you had with you, slowly dragging the thick comforter to cover your shivering body. After shuffling in the kitchen, looking to find some aspirin and a glass of water for you to gargle right after you woke up he put it on the desk at your bedside. 
He saw a picture of you and Midori on the table, during graduation day. Midori carried you on her back while you threw a peace sign with tongue out and Midori making a disgusted face. He laughs at it, putting it back to where it belongs, carefully. 
You had a lot of other pictures pasted on the wall, the one that faces you when you sit on your study table. The notes and thick books are messily arranged on the shelf, a succulent that says ‘Good Job!’ on the table standing cutely, possibly the one that kept you up during the late night study sessions. He never really checked up on you and your studies, how did you manage to be so strong on your own without a supportive boyfriend, he doesn't know. 
And then he saw the pictures you hung neatly. He took the pictures one by one and saw some notes you scribbled on the back of the photograph. 
First, a picture with your parents. You talked about them at some time because you’re their only daughter and you missed them as much as they missed you. One time when you were making out with Atsumu your parents called and you pushed him away to answer the phone call. So funny how you got so innocent and angel-like just right after doing some lewd stuff with Atsumu just with the voice of your parents on the phone. At the back of the picture, it wrote.
Secured the top-scorer title with a scholarship! Mommy and Daddy are proud of me and I will never stop!
The second picture is of you and Midori at a pride parade. This time you wore a white t-shirt with blue jeans and sneakers and you looked absolutely mesmerizing. 
Pride with Midori. I am so happy for her!!
Some other pictures of you at an animal shelter, old folks home, in the streets, caring for homeless people, women’s march and marathon for cancer awareness. You were basically everywhere and it is what makes him regret not finding out about this side of you. All he does is talk about his talent in volleyball and you always make him feel the best that he never gave a chance for you to talk about yourself. 
Atsumu can’t stop the stretch of his smile and it is making his jaw sore. He is so whipped for you. You have always been such a caring person to him, doing your best to take care of him when game losses make his sour mood make a nasty comeback. 
He would cry in a phone call because he messed up his set and you arrived in his room, dropping your bag to hug him and lull him back to sleep. He cries so hard and you would never make him cry worse than he did, you were always comforting but his pride and selfishness would forget that in a day because he thinks the relationship you had with him is a waste. 
Atsumu is a fool. He didn’t realise how much his confusion hurts you more than it hurts himself. He is such a fool for not being there to protect you. The thought of you crying minutes earlier makes him scream in his heart, he doesn't ever want to see it again. If he made that happen again he will never forgive himself and if he has to build a shrine and be a monk to make sure his sins are forgiven he would do it. He would do anything for you. 
The last picture hid him the hardest.
It was him, and you, during his debut game as MSBY Black Jackals setter. 
You had your body leaned into his arm, smiling wide with a bouquet of flowers for him in your hand. He was staring at the camera with a lazy smirk, hands encircling your waist. It was sweet, and you look very cute standing next to him, in his embrace like that. A sight so beautiful. It is a shame when he remembers what exactly happened that night.
It was a very joyful day for Atsumu and for you but Atsumu didn’t even tell you about the match, you were only informed of the game because of Komori so the ticket you got is because Osamu gave up his ticket for you. He is tired of seeing Atsumu play volleyball and he can see it on his phone if he wants so he just gave it to you, saying you deserve it better. Even when you’re not informed about the game, you still showed up in the cutest little dress with the cutest little smell and the cutest bouquet of baby breath flowers for him. 
Atsumu is not fond of flowers. He is not fond of surprises either. When you showed up on the court, congratulating him, he was shocked. He was busy talking to fangirls and kids who love volleyball until you call out his name with so much pride. 
“Atsumu aaaa I am so proud of you! You worked so hard for this and I am sorry I don’t know of this sooner.” You hugged him and pat his back when you hugged him. Eyes glistening as you pulled away. Said the cries are happy tears. You told one of the passers-by to take a picture of you and Atsumu, resulting in the small piece of photography in his hand.
Later that night he went with his team and celebrated the debut together with them while you took off to your apartment, barely making it to the last bus of the night to get there safely, wishing you were with Atsumu in his car instead.
He turned the picture over. There is a long note there.
Might be the first ever picture with Atsumu, like ever. Nonetheless I am so happy and so proud of him it made my jaw hurt so much as I write this. I can’t stop smiling!!! I hope I can attend more of his games, more to his success, more time with him. I feel like I am the happiest person alive! I feel like one of the fantasy film protagonists where the person they have loved for a long time is within their arms, finally! I am so happy to have known Atsumu since the beginning days of school, how his charming and cunning personality, inspiring and charismatic figure would walk down the hallways of Inarizaki, I will always fall for him over and over again. I love him so much, and even if it takes a thousand years to wait for him I will always wait. Praying that this essay reaches the Gods because I love him too much, I don’t even want to let him go. I love Miya Atsumu, and I hope he feels the same thing too.
Atsumu pasted the picture back on the wall, turning off the study lamp and closing the door as he walked out. He sat on the couch in the living room, only having the kitchen light to illuminate the entire apartment. As he sat there, tears rolled off his eyes and loud sobs spilled out of his mouth. 
He realised he is such a foolish man, living in a complete lie with an angel from heaven taking care of him despite getting paid dust in return. He cried so hard he took the pillow next to him and cried himself to sleep. 
Day 154
If it is not for the bubbling and disturbing feeling in your stomach, you wouldn’t have gotten up and run to the bathroom to puke your guts out, but here you are. Smelling so stinky you just take a shower along the way. Fresh out of the shower in clean new clothes you saw a tall glass of water with your birth control pills right beside it. After downing the glass of water you headed to the kitchen to grab an aspirin to calm down the throbbing pain of your chest.
What you found instead is the sight of Atsumu, wearing an apron on top of his white t-shirt. It has been way too long since you have last seen him, and you didn’t expect to encounter him in your apartment, let alone him in the kitchen, preparing a breakfast for two. “Atsumu! What are you doing here!” you screamed audibly to him and got to the table to see a tray of rice and a bowl of soup on the table. 
“Ah, ya woke up earlier than I thought ya would, was intending to make breakfast on bed like in that one cheesy film you love so much.” You blushed. You headed to the cupboard and popped the aspirin into your mouth with the assistance of the barley tea Atsumu prepared for you. 
As you sat down awkwardly, he pulled out the rice bowl and put the tray in the sink and scooped another bowl of rice and soup for himself. He prepared a hearty meal for two, a miso soup to help you sober down and ease the gut after rounds of alcohol shots dumped in your body. 
Right, you were drunk last night. “So why are you here?” you asked after spooning out the final drop of the miso soup. “You remember nothing at all?” Atsumu asked. “Wait...so...Midori didn’t lie?” you asked again. Just realising that Midori already told you that your boyfriend was there. 
“Oh my god...how much did I say?” you pressed your palms on your face and dropped them to your lap. Atsumu smiles. 
“You said a lot! You said too much that it made me learn a lot.” Atsumu reaches your hands the moment it gets on to the table. He clasped it with care and so much gentleness even when his hand is calloused and rough from the intense training for so many days in a week. 
Atsumu sighs and hangs his head low. “I just realised that all this time, our relationship is one-sided” you gasped and the grip on his hands gets tighter. “I...took you for granted. I never gave you a comfort space to live in, a shoulder to cry on, and I have never...expressed my feelings for you.” You were trembling and Atsumu fully connected your fingers with his, interlacing it together hoping that neither of you will let it go.
“All this time you were always there for me, no matter what I was struggling with, no matter the time and place you would rush and hug me and tell me that it will be okay but I let you cry on your own whenever you deal with the same problem. I made a big mistake, and I swear to my life that I will make it up to you.” You got up from your seat and went to the sink along with your empty bowls. Atsumu got there too, hugging you from behind. 
“I am so sorry for being late, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts when I see you get hurt because of me.” Atsumu hugged you like he would make you dissolve in his body, it was so tight and warm and comforting it felt like home.
Miya Atsumu is your home. You are his home. And so he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders to make sure you won’t disappear before him, to tell you that what he said is true. 
You turned around. Holding his head in your hands.
“Atsumu, I love you too, and I missed you so much.” You smiled as the tears dropped, and Atsumu thinks this sight of yours hurts him as much as it makes his heart feel warm. It was a mixed feeling, but he knows that the perfect moment is right there, he holds your waist and your neck and kisses you on the lips with so much need and passion, to tell you that he loves you.
Your hands went to wrap itself on his neck, occasionally stopping by to run your hair through the blonde locks you love so much. He kisses in deeper and languid motion; it makes your head drowsy, worse than what the alcohol did to you but the sensation is nice. The alcohol was bitter and you hated it, this kiss tastes sweet and flavourful and you love it.
Atsumu continues while he carries you towards the bedroom he left you in alone last night, slowly putting your body on the messy bed who still has the scent of you from last night. It is supposed to gross you out but Atsumu is making it harder for you to breathe so nothing really matters, and Atsumu loves the scent as much as you love his oozing warmth that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He continues peppering kisses along your entire body, just like the night when you first spent together. Shirts off, pants off, underwear off. There’s nothing in the way of the both of you in the intense love-making session. Atsumu loves the way his name rolls on your tongue as he nibbles addictively on your neck, your chest and your tummy that is filled with the food he made for you, the love he had in store from his heart is delivered into you with so much ease. He plans to deliver some more as his kisses turn more passionate as the clock ticks, tongue intermingles and liquid drooling out of each other’s hot mouth.
Atsumu is already so eager to get inside you but he always has to prioritise you before him so he asked you. “Can I-can I get on with it now?” he asked, trying to recollect his breath at the same time while he looks for a particular wrapper in the drawer of your bedside table. “It’s fine, Atsumu, I’m on birth control.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, caressing your cheeks, touching your lips and tucking your hair behind your cute ears he loved to kiss so much. “You know, you mistook the birth control pills for aspirin that’s why I rummaged through the whole cupboard to look for one.” You gave him a glare so cute he continues kissing you. “My bad, baby. Can I get in now?” He asked with a teasing little smirk displayed on his stupidly handsome face.
“Yes, you can Atsumu.” You kissed him on the cheeks and hugged his neck as he entered. Inches by inches you sucked him in and he would kiss your temple to make you feel better after the stretch. The time away clearly made a lot of changes between the two of you, and it all makes this event more admirable than the ones before, because of the heartfelt confession you shared with him in the morning. All he wants to do is kiss your body like it is the only thing in this world worth worshipping. You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened in his life anyway, and he would never regret anything in his life anymore.
After the both of you peaked, he released into you, stayed there for a few minutes and took it out after he finally made your deep furrowed eyebrows disappear. You finally relax after the soothing time with your dearest one and he plopped himself next to you. 
Atsumu opened his arms and you found him inside it, getting smooches here and there as he hugged you. He would play with your hair, draw stars on the naked back of yours, and you would draw circles on his chest as you listen to the small heart beat in him. 
His heart was beating because of you.
“Hey, that noise in there is because of ya.” Atsumu kissed you on the forehead. 
“Oh really, yer not special, Miya, listen to mine!” you said with a glare after hitting him playfully on his chest.
“Uhuh...can I kiss it? Like this?” Atsumu continues his attack on your chest and you laughed loudly as he starts skimming his fingers on your waist and your tummy. He was smiling and laughing into the attack. 
Atsumu thinks that even if it is true that he is a fool, at least he is a fool that is so foolishly in love with you. 
111 notes · View notes
helenazbmrskai · 3 years
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Cat And Mouse: The Noble Tale (M)
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Pairing – Rich! Taehyung x Reader
Genre – Romance, Roommates To Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Best Friends To Lovers
Summary – [Charity balls are always the same. Expensive champagne and nobles staring at you and Taehyung left and right, however, this time you have to thank his mother for intervening if it weren’t for her you two would still play that game of cat and mouse.]
Warnings – smut, teasing, vaginal fingering, blowjob (road head), ruined orgasm, implied penetrative sex, dom! tae for like 5 seconds, tae has a rich bitch mother in this fic and doesn’t like oc
Word Count – (7,5k)
Author note. I edited this bad boy so it got longer as I added 1.5k words plus and tried to catch any mistakes and errors (but there’s probably some that I didn’t see anyway) also changed the header. Please enjoy this version as well!
Menu: Masterlist l Be part of my permanent taglist to recieve a notification when I upload a new fic or send an ask!
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Internally cringing away from your reflection, you defeatedly let the elevator’s heavy metal doors shut in front of your tired form, well, you can always call for it again. You aren’t a fan of small talk either so it’s a bonus that you decided not to get in with the old lady from room 45, she’s sweet and you like the cat pictures she shows you proudly but today is not the day that cute animals can cheer you up.
You mechanically try to rake your fingers through your hair before realising that the high ponytail you arranged this morning gets in the way. That was the only solution so you could leave the apartment on time without opting for a quick shower first. Greasy hair was the least of your concerns on the long lists of worries.
Your mood was as shitty as your appearance and you almost turn around to leave when someone on the sixth floor holds up the elevator for too long, you don’t have it in yourself to glare at the businessman that steps out nearly running you over, and normally you’re not someone to let things like that slide without comment.
Something must be wrong with you, or you’re just too tired to care. Shaking away the thought you stick a hand inside, near the sensors so the doors don’t manage to slam shut in front of your face again and finally walk inside, using unnecessary strength to push the button to the fifth floor, you think being rich would be nice.
Not that you have any right to complain, your friend helps you out plenty of times with his money, standing inside the lavish building with nice interior design and secure neighbourhood with guards and front desk receptionists is speaking volumes itself, even if you look out of place with your unwashed hair and zombie shaming looks the woman that lives next door still makes sure she sends you a pleasant enough smile as a greeting it’s only you that send back a grimace that you can hardly call a smile.
It’s not your fault that she caught you on a bad day, normally you are not this swallowed up in self-pity and despair but the lack of sleep you got on these few days started to take its toll on your body and mind.
You’re not even sure how you managed to wake up this morning when the time you finally closed your eyes provided you with two hours of sleep at most. If anyone asked you, you would deny but hearing Taehyung kill zombies in his video game at four in the morning filtering through your shared wall calmed you down and quieted your overwhelming thoughts and even managed to make you feel better that you are not the only one up.
Dismissed the idea immediately to knock on his door no matter how much your fingers itched to turn the doorknob of your room and knock on his, he’s your friend so you’re positive he would have beckoned you inside with that cute smile of his but the thought that he endures so much of you lately made you reconsider.
You don’t want to be a burden. Right now he might not see you as one but eventually, he will realise that you’re just a waste of oxygen in the apartment. He’s not even making you pay rent, you literally are useless.
You might be showering him with your undying support and love but that’s literally it that you can offer.
His biggest dream is to become a video game developer one day instead of the head of his father’s phone company and that created great issues as following his dream not only crushed his parent's expectations of him but he lost some good bachelor friends to that so Taehyung packed his bags and moved out of his very expensive penthouse his parents rented for him to chase his ’delusions’ as his parents liked to call it.
His friends were not good for him (feeding Taehyung with their greed for money and status) as they lived up to the title of ’snob rich kids’ you saw some of them and you could tell with one look at their faces that they were born with silver spoons up their asses.
Even if later on he realised that they were up for no good Taehyung still felt devastated when they turned their backs on him once his income started to lack even a single digit at the end since his father told him he’ll not support his childish dreams, the money stopped circulating. He had enough to move to a more manageable apartment and later he found a way to earn his own money.
At first glance, Taehyung didn’t seem much different at that time.
He’s too friendly for his own good, he’s often perceived as naive and he easily gives his thrust away to anyone who shows him a big enough smile not considering the consequences that it can lead to eventual betrayal. He’s an honest person like that. He wears his heart on his sleeve giving everyone second chances, that’s the rich quality of his personality that you recognised first and you cherish him for it, even though sometimes you have to scold him for his too trusting nature.
On the other hand, he’s even more than that to you. He tries to mend conflicts by playing rock paper scissors and can’t cook for shit like a spoilt brat but he has his moments when he can act like his age.
Remembering that time when a man grabbed your butt while you were working as a waitress. Taehyung happened to witness it and moved in front of you instinctively even so that this man was twice his size, he stood proudly defending you in front of the people that failed to do so as not even your boss helped you.
You often feel like you don’t deserve his friendship as you always think you benefit from your relationship more than he does.
The ding of the elevator announced your arrival with the automatic doors sliding open the next second and you moved before you had to stop the doors from closing again on you already digging through your bag to find your keys.
The place smelled like the ocean scented fabric softener you bought last week and your eyes easily found the rack of clothes hanging neatly on the dryer at the corner of the living room nearby the open window.
You hesitated at first to share dirty laundry baskets howbeit you soon realised that doing laundry separately made the water bill extend in number unnecessarily so you relented and permit him to handle your undergarments and dirty socks just like you had the right to touch his boxers and shovel it into the washing machine.
You told yourself not long ago how you don’t want to be a burden to him but thanks to the exhaustion and gloomy nature of your thoughts swimming inside your head it begins to crush you under their weights. Start to lay unbearable paperweights on your heart so despite all the warnings going off inside your head, after kicking your shoes off at the entrance your limbs carry you to Taehyung’s room instead of your own.
The room is dark because of how tightly the blinds are drawn and the air stuffy when you enter trying hard not to make any sound that might wake him up, sweat and his favourite cologne mixing in the air. However, you pay no mind to it as you drag your feet further inside until your toes meet with the edge of the king-sized bed.
You help yourself to the right side of it since Taehyung always sleeps on the left side. Taehyung stirs in his sleep when he faintly feels the extra weight added on the mattress beside him moving automatically closer to wind his arms around your waist.
He not so secretly likes when you sleep next to him, he has a habit of hugging something to sleep better and you always smell nice and inviting, the best thing about you however is that you’re the perfect size for him to comfortably cuddle with. Like your body was made for him to hold all along.
Letting out a silent sigh you let yourself feel comfortable in his embrace, the heat he radiates warms up your skin and you absentmindedly move your hand to play with his hair, trying to tame his soft brown locks that are sticking to every direction. Taehyung hums into your skin peacefully holding you and pulling you closer until your body is moulded with him perfectly with his head resting on your heaving chest lulling him back to sleep.
You slowly follow his lead and drift off to sleep, letting your tired mind relax, feeling the warm huffs of air periodically leaving his slightly parted lips, tickling your bare skin. Your eyes are closing in their own accord recognising the calming presence holding onto you securely. In your dream clouded mind, the sudden thought appears that things should be always like this. This is peaceful.
You open your eyes before him even though it’s in the late afternoon almost nighttime. Nothing’s new about seeing his closed eyelids, as he surely likes to take his sweet time waking up. Sometimes you wish you could be a heavy sleeper like him. In your sleep, you must have moved around because you no longer were in the position you fell asleep with Taehyung’s head resting on your chest, he still had his hands around your waist but your head was tucked under his chin while both of your bodies rested in a sideways position, thighs pressed up against each other ankles knocking together.
This makes your escape more challenging to carry out as no matter how you try to wrestle out of his hold Taehyung doesn’t budge, he’s stubborn even in his sleep to keep you close.
”Stop moving around.” Taehyung’s voice is deep and raspy, heavy with sleep, to make a point he tightens his hands around your waist so he can stop your movements altogether there’s no more space between the two of you by the time he plants a lingering kiss – his mind is still mussy from sleep – onto the top of your head before nosing around your hairline inhaling your natural scent, you dare to look bashful when you remember the fact that it's been a couple of days since you washed your hair and suddenly you’re able to find the strength within you to push him away.
A displeased groan vibrates from the depths of his chest ready to curl his fingers around your wrist before you could get out of reach and drag you back next to him. The cold air hits his body once yours is no longer warms his side and he reaches out to grab you, your skin is soft under his fingertips when he makes contact but he misjudged the angle as you landed right on top of him. You’re not particularly heavy but he makes extra noises to annoy you that earns an eye roll and a hit.
”I’m hungry so let me go before I bite a chunk out of you instead.” A breathy chuckle that follows your statement seem to dismiss your empty threats in no time but Taehyung lets you go when you playfully pull at his long curly hair.
He decides to tag along since he feels absolutely famished after the long gaming night he had with the boys.
”Nope.” You dig your pointer finger into his chest when he tries to exit his room after you and he looks like a confused puppy when you deny him more cuddles. To enlighten him you give instructions to head for a shower first since he stinks like he just rolled around in contaminated takeout pizza and a bucket of sweat the exact smell that greets you whenever he spends nights holed up in his room for over 24 hours (exactly what he did by the way) and tell him to let some fresh air inside because if he stinks his room is probably worse.
He can’t argue with that as he opens up the windows the fresh air helps subduing his headache.
You always know what he needs he thinks with a shy smile that graces his features at the thought before fishing out clean clothes to retreat inside the connected bathroom and wash up.
You can’t wait to have a shower as well since you feel dirty and smelly that definitely doesn’t help to lift your mood but it has to wait because your stomach can’t take any more minutes without something filling the emptiness.
You prepare a simple and quick omelette that you shovel into your mouth within seconds, you almost choke on the bites very unladylike considering how fast you inhale the whole meal not waiting for Taehyung to join you. 
”Smells good.” Taehyung beams when he smells the food. Droplets of water wets the material of his shirt, it slides down from the tips of his hair following the line of his neck before it gets soaked up by his white shirt, the strong smell of his body wash enters your nostrils even from a distance.
Taehyung smells nice naturally but you can’t deny that when he is freshly out of the shower he looks and smells tempting can’t settle down if you want to hug him while inhaling his scent or lick the droplets of water from his neck tasting his clean skin. Ok, that’s way ahead of yourself, but you can’t help it.
”Anything smells good to you unless you were the one who made it.” You snort, the jabs at his ego serves as your coping mechanism when your thoughts are about to take dangerous turns you distract yourself with insults hoping that Taehyung will never learn the true meaning behind your words.
If you keep being mean he won’t think you’re head over heels for him, right? That’s your tactic.
He's clearly not someone who cares about financial statuses – or more like differences – because if he did, you two wouldn’t be friends in the first place but making him a potential love interest.
You’re not insane yet. Your fates are cross starred from the beginning not just because he is way out of your league (status apart, he’s a softhearted person, considerate, funny and adorable in his own stupidly endearing way) the list could go on why he is apparently too good for you.
What can you even offer him? Anyone can cook him nice meals and you’re sure someone would support his dreams even if you’re not, he’s so easy to fall in love with that anyone would be happy to have him.
You sometimes fantasize about him telling you, that all of the above might be true but he only wants to eat your meals and have your support and even your love to himself. He cherishes you as a friend you can’t possibly imagine how good of a lover he would be. If only things would be different.
It gets harder and harder with each passing day spent with him by your side to stop those thoughts from spiralling out of your control. You know he would reject your confession delicately making sure he tells you sweet lies so it wouldn’t hurt you that much. He would keep you as a friend but things would never be the same after that before eventually, he drifts away.
You’re not ready to flush this carefully crafted friendship down the toilet and you probably never will. He might not know you’re in love with him but he sure knows your weakness is his pleading, round star-filled puppy eyes.
”Your parents hate me! Their blood pressure will be over the roof as soon as they see me at your side. If you want to witness my death there are more civil ways to do it. You don’t have to throw me in front of the sharks like that!”
Tae finds your little outburst entertaining in some sort of way. He even laughed at your dramatic approach until he realised you meant every word since you didn’t crack a smile as he anticipated at the end and instead met with your panicked eyes.
”I can only bear those events because you’re with me. Would you really let me go alone? I thought we were a team!”
Well, he doesn’t have to say it like that. You’re a sucker for those kinds of compliments and you can already feel your strongly expressed ’no’ turn into a shy ’maybe’ not after a full minute passing after your outburst. You hate he has this much power over you.
”We are a team.” You sigh, there’s no way you can talk your way out of this so you admit your defeat quickly and start mentally preparing yourself because this will be a hella long night. At least he should have given you a heads up and not drop this bomb at you on the same day, even the day before would have been nice.
”Wait, I don’t have a dress to wear!” You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously when Taehyung chimes in swallowing the last bites of his late breakfast, that’s like probably dinner and motions for you to follow him back to his room.
”I hope you will like it I put a lot of thought into what to get you.” Tae shyly smiles under his nose opening his closet to reveal your dress to you. It has a silky touch to it that you’re already in love with, the dress itself reaching mid-thigh if you’re not mistaken and it’s in the shade of a nice emerald green colour, you don’t want to know how much does this pretty thing cost. You keep looking between the dress and Taehyung and he takes your silence as a bad sign as he scratches the back of his neck nervously.
”I love it, it’s just that you didn’t have to do this. I don’t want you to spend your money on me.” The concern shows in your expressive orbs, he sees that you’re grateful but he sees the guilt behind it as well.
He knows what’s inside that pretty little head of yours before you got the chance to tell him.
”You’re not using me Y/N. I got this for you because I thought you would look pretty in it, it’s a gift.” Taehyung cradles your shoulder in his hand to meet your gaze, you feel the sincerity behind his words and there’s something you see in his eyes while you explore the depths of his darkness.
”I know my parents called you a gold digger but we both know it’s not true. I know you didn’t befriend me because of my money, you’re the only true friend that I’ve ever had in my life so don’t let them tell you such things.”
When Taehyung says things like that your heart squeezes inside your chest uncomfortably, even if the sentiment warms you, you truly don’t deserve the affectionate words. You’re a liar, you don’t consider him your friend for a while now and here he is calling you his first real friend. What would he think of you if he found out your not so friendly feelings for him?
You’re aware of the fact that Taehyung’s parents just say stuff to hurt you so you would eventually give up on their son because they think if you don’t support him anymore he would eventually crawl back to them and succumb to their wishes.
It only hurts because you think you don’t deserve him as much as his parents think, you might not be a gold digger since he helps you out of his good heart’s will but it still feels wrong to depend on him this much.
The guilt is not enough to change your mind, you stay because you can’t imagine a scenario when Taehyung is not by your side.
”I’ll be by your side the whole night! I promise I won’t let them separate you from me again, they had no right to insult you like that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
You nod embracing him in a tight hug to cover your crestfallen expression, he reciprocates the affection immediately and you calmly inhale his comforting scent resting your head on his shoulder for a few minutes before slowly pulling away.
”They can have you over my dead body, so don’t worry about things like that. I’m a big girl I can handle some mean people spouting nonsense.” You show him a big smile as you do what you can do best, mask your real feelings to make him feel better, you know he feels responsible because of that night his parents tried to scare you away. He apologises even though it’s not something he’s entitled to do.
You’re more than happy and ready to fight for him if this life he lives with you makes him happy. Even if the day comes when your paths can’t cross anymore, you’ll be content with the thought that you got lucky enough to experience this friendship with him.
Inspecting your figure in front of the body-sized mirror hours later you stress over your imperfect features although you’re aware that nothing is there that you can do to please his parents you still try.
You smooth the wrinkles of the silk with your hands that hug your body modestly, looking at your finished makeup you add the final touch of your favourite lip balm when you hear a knock on your door.
”Come in.” You call out since other than Taehyung no one would knock on your door this late he’s probably here to fetch you so you two could go.
Looking around you locate your heels at the foot of the bed and bends slightly to pick them up at the same time that Taehyung turns the doorknob having a great view of your cleavage at that angle, not flashing him entirely just showing more than he ever saw of you. Taehyung thinks you have nice proportions and he can’t say anything else considering the swell of your breasts. You smile up at him so innocently that he feels bad about his dirty thoughts, not changing the fact that he thinks your breasts look beautiful in this dress he just only hopes no one will see what he did he will make sure to bend down for you to pick up something if it’s necessary.
”Do you need help with your tie?” You giggle when you spot the item hanging loosely around his neck. Taehyung nods in confirmation but looks away quickly when you step so close to him he’s fine being close to you normally but the previous encounter that you’re not even aware of makes him act all shy all of the sudden.
”You..” Taehyung gulps when you look up at him, waiting for him to continue what he started but he feels incredibly shy around you. After you’re finished with the neat knot you rearrange his collar with your hands letting your fingers glide along the lines of his shoulder blades and you swear you feel him shiver under your touch.
”I, what?” Tilting your head to the side curiously you remove your touch from his shoulder that shakes him up to finally tell you.
”You look so pretty in this dress.” His long hair prevents you from seeing as his ears begin to turn pink with embarrassment.
He doesn’t look half bad himself but you don’t tell him that instead, you giggle like a high schooler and that makes Taehyung smile at you affectionately.
His hair is prettily curled looking invitingly soft in your room’s dim lights taunting you to touch it so you listen curling a few strands behind his ears gently. Every man looks good wearing a nice suit and a tie but Taehyung is an entirely different standard.
After he showed up in your life you can’t help but compare every possible suitor to him and in the end, no one can beat Taehyung. A guy can be nice but he’ll be nicer, he can be good looking but you only find Taehyung breathtakingly handsome.
”We should hurry, we’re running late.” Hearing your statement Taehyung’s eyes widen in realisation as his gaze narrows on the clock, you giggle again seeing his mortified face but step into your shoes so the two of you can avoid being any more late than you already are. A true gentleman that he is, Taehyung offers his arm to help you balance on your heels and you happily leech onto him.
Not even the silence is awkward with Taehyung sitting beside you, watching as he drives the both of you to the charity ball his slim fingers operating the wheel to take a turn getting closer to the destination.
Your growing nerves start to get the better of you be that as it may your companion is attentive, tuned to the smallest twitch of your muscles he takes your hand in his to squeeze rubbing small shapes into your skin helping you unwind.
”Do you trust me?” Taehyung parks the car before twisting his body to face you in the confined space of his car, seeing the open vulnerable look in his eyes, you have no doubts that you certainly do trust him, so you nod with a small smile.
”I wonder what your mother schemed up this time around.” The futile attempt of a joke was a way for you to cut through the thick tension, even though Taehyung tried hard to appear as confident before you and nonchalant about the event, you can sense his nervousness radiate off of him when he grabbed your hand, you saw them shake he was getting comfort by touching you as much as it helped you calm down.
He’s not nervous directly because of the event, the people who normally attend these kinds of parties he’s not so fond of meeting. News spread like the plague in the medieval period between rich and powerful people and he’s tired of listening to them questioning him about his life choices, subtly trying to tell him he should have chosen more wisely and it’s not too late to stop this phase of rebellious behaviour and the fact that brings him the most discomfort that he doesn’t like the stares they give you.
”I feel like I should say sorry in advance.” The chuckle is humourless and you grab his hand before he can move forward.
”Take a deep breath Tae, I’m not going anywhere. Hold onto me tight and watch me make these big bad nobles pop a blood vessel if they try to insult you.” Shaking his head in playful disbelief he nods holding onto your hands tight pulling you to face the music, quite literally, but you proudly step beside him matching his footsteps head held high because you’re proud to stand next to him.
It’s their loss they don’t know the real him. You know Taehyung like the back of your hand and he knows you just as much, there’s nothing you can’t endure just to stay by his side. Romantic feelings aside you would always support him.
Before you can chicken out you move to place a small kiss on Taehyung’s cheek as a form of encouragement.
”Your mother is at one o’clock already staring at us.” You whisper into his right ear while placing a hand on his shoulder to draw closer to him the sound of your voice hits the shell of his ears howbeit it gets drowned by the chatter and music that surrounds the elegant ballroom, you’re in perfect height to reach him without problems thanks to your heels and while you’re at it you should give his mother something to munch on.
”Taehyung, glad you could make it.” His mother’s tone is dripping honey as he greets his son pecking the same cheeks you pecked moments prior, you somehow felt triumphant by that tiny fact, not surprised when your greeting is delayed like always, however, ignoring me won’t make me disappear doesn’t matter how much she obviously would like that idea.
Her smile gets more stained when she’s forced to acknowledge my existence you expect a half-hearted hello or something similar but she surprises you with a gentle hug.
”Y/N, I’m pleased to see you, actually I have a surprise for you since you always support my son I thought I should somehow thank you. Have you met Park Jimin yet?” Oh, you don’t like the sound of that. Glancing at Taehyung through your peripheral vision a sudden appearance forces your eyes to focus on the man before you.
”I’m afraid I didn’t.” You force a smile as you exchange awkward greetings with the man, he’s handsome you give him that. Jimin asks you if you would like to dance like it’s prompted to happen and you’re in no position to say no when eyes are on the two of you, so you detach yourself from Taehyung and accept this man’s outstretched hand letting him guide you through the people.
You look over Jimin’s shoulder to get a last peek at Taehyung’s form standing next to his mother it surprises you when you found his expression morph into a frown watching you led by another man.
Well, he promised you to be by your side the whole night, he’s probably upset because he couldn’t keep it.
Your intellectual guess cannot be farther from the truth as he observes Jimin’s hand with jealousy sliding down your back turning you to face him and break eye contact with Taehyung.
”What do you get out of this?”
You’re not a fan of beating around the bush, you so confront him directly Jimin acts like you said something funny his body slightly pushes against yours, hearing him chuckle so close to your face lets you admire his nice profile you play along as you let a smile appear in the corner of your mouth all the while the flute in Taehyung’s hand is close to breaking due to the strong grip he has on the poor drink.
”I have my reasons.” He answers curtly, but it’s not enough to satisfy your curiosity. Pulling you closer he guides you through the steps leading you gently along with his graceful movements, Jimin is not just handsome but a good dancer too.
”Shall we exchange secrets, sweetheart?” His breath hits the side of your face as he lowers his head near your ear to whisper into it, he has a melodious voice with a playful edge to it. That feature probably makes him popular with the girls.
”You can start by answering my question first.” A brow raised face unamused Jimin realises then and there that his charms won’t work on you, he can’t capture a heart that’s already captured.
You have someone in mind (even now when you’re talking to him) and he can’t compete with that. He wonders if it has to do anything with the Kim family’s black sheep son that you clung to before he led you away.
”Because I’m bored. There has to be a reason behind every action?” Jimin’s smile grows as soon as your expression changes from shocked to sheer bewilderment. You’re more entertaining than he first thought, refreshing to see someone so expressive of their emotions.
You regard the rich boy with narrowed eyes, manners can be damned. You refuse to be his plaything as a fit of newfound anger emerges from within the pit of your stomach.
You might not be rich like he is but your life is not a show for him to find entertainment in. Sensing your newfound hostility Jimin spins you around before pulling you back, your hands are firmly placed on his chest for the reason that the spin caught you off guard.
”Don’t look at me like that. How about I help you out as well?” Jimin glances in the direction that he knows Taehyung is still standing paying no mind to his mother chatting more focused on the way Jimin curls a lock of hair behind your ears before whispering into it like second nature.
”You like him don’t you?” A wicked smirk is written all across his face seeing your eyes widen in dread, he likes your reactions so much, it’s a shame you’re in love because he sure would be interested in you otherwise.
You always thought you were subtle enough but it’s clearly not true as a complete stranger can tell your fond feelings about your best friend, bashfully looking away you’re not sure if you should give in and confirm or try to deny it.
Reading you like an open book Jimin shakes his head in a mocking gesture. ”No need to lie, after tonight we’ll never see each other again. Aren’t you curious if he feels the same way or not?” He has your undivided attention at that, of course, you’re dying to know where Taehyung’s heart lies. You were just always too afraid to ruin what the two of you have built over the years.
”What are you suggesting?” Tightening your hold on his suit, he’s aware he has exactly where he wants you to be, right in the palm of his hands.
”Don’t take it personally sweetheart.” The smirk appears again when your face contorts into a scowl.
”What are you talking about .. hmmp.” His hands dip lower stopping just above your ass the sudden contact makes you jump a little halting your words altogether and Jimin lets a warm laugh out at your reaction.
”You’re cute when you get all flustered.” The next thing you feel is his plump lips giving a lingering kiss onto the centre of your forehead, the gesture featherlight and sweet, he could almost fool you if you didn’t feel his hand so closely situated near your butt.
”I guess it’s time for us to say goodbye. If things don’t work out with him you can always just search for me.” You have no time to take in and consider the meaning behind his words because someone grabs your hand absurdly pulling you out of Jimin’s hold, your dance partner smirks up at the intruder and raises his hands in lazy defence.
The familiar smell of Taehyung’s cologne envelopes your senses you tense up and relax at the same time as his touch is burning but soothing on your skin leaving you to bask in the exciting mix of the two emotion, it doesn’t require rocket science to know whose chest is that you’re pulled against. His fingers curl around your silk-covered waist protectively while the other is still holding onto your hand.
Taehyung left his mother standing with a shocked expression overtaking her features, leaving her in the middle of a one-sided conversation that she failed to realise but his vision was always trained on your form, he started to see red when that bastard blond man began to get too close to you.
”It was a pleasure meeting you miss Y/N, don’t forget to look for me if you ever get bored.” Ready to get your love interest riled up (beaming at the both of you) Jimin takes your free hand to plant a small kiss on the back but Taehyung instinctively pulls you out of reach before he can get too close again.
There’s no way in hell that he would let him touch you for another minute longer, at the same time a hand digs into your hip bone but you’re too caught up in the situation beforehand to register the feeling of Taehyung’s hand tighten on your body possessively.
”I guess I’m done here, you have your answer.” Jimin gives you a last good-natured wink before his body gets swallowed up by the people dancing around your frozen form.
Turning around you finally face Taehyung for the first time since the both of you got separated his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he regards you with bottled-up desire and longing. He can’t bear the sight of you so close to someone else that’s not him.
Realisation lits up in your orbs as Jimin’s melodic voice echo inside your head. ’You have your answer’ and what a nice answer that you got.
Can’t contain your feelings anymore you pull Taehyung closer to your form using a fistful of his tie to aid you and crash your lips against his. Fireworks erupt behind your closed eyelids as you feel Taehyung’s body mould against yours perfectly, his lips are gentle as he moves against yours and you almost moan into his mouth when he parts your lips with the tip of his tongue.
”Tae..” You’re the first to pull away when it hits you where the two of you are – in the middle of the ballroom where everyone can witness your first kiss with him – but it’s not long before Taehyung connects your mouths again despite your efforts to part from him you find yourself responding to every little peck he delivers. His lips, his scent everything is so intoxicating.
”Taehyung, your mother will faint if you keep kissing me.” He chuckles into your shoulder nose buried deep into your hair inhaling your sweet scent, it’s hard for him to hold himself back when he finally gets a taste of you.
”Let’s get out of here.”
”So..” You start talking once the both of you are situated inside his car as he drives back home after the initial shock wears off that yes, the two of you indeed just kissed in front of at least 20,00 people nonetheless in front of his mother who would probably strangle you if she had the chance.
”Just to make sure. You..do like me right?” Rubbing your clammy hands on your expensive dress shyly you avoid eye contact with Taehyung but it doesn’t deter him from looking at you a few times before he rightfully turns back to watch the road.
His tie is loosened around his neck and a few buttons are undone as well, the air inside the car took a turn.
”I do. Do you?” Your best friend gulps gripping the steering wheel nervously even if you were the first to lean in and kiss him he can’t help the doubts that start to fill his head. What if you regretted it?
Feeling more relaxed after his confession you give his thighs a small squeeze that startles your friend. You feel his leg muscles go rigid under your touch so you decide to remove your hand that makes him panic more. He’s not trying to reject you, he just has a hard time accepting the fact that his feelings for you are reciprocated.
His hand finds your bare skin mid-thigh just below the material of your dress, sensing the inappropriate touch he tries to pull back, cursing under his breath that he can’t do a single thing right with you but you intertwine your fingers placing it back on your thigh.
Your smaller ones are entirely enveloped in his warm touch like he was made for holding your hand all along. ”I like you too.” You confess. It feels weird but you are relieved and somehow giddy that you could tell him your honest feelings after keeping them to yourself, that you’re able to share it with him confidently without fearing rejection or behind the shadow of the possibility to lose him as a friend.
”You do?” His smile reaches from ear to ear as he asks you, more confident in his skin after hearing you say it his hand glides further up on your thigh reaching the hem of your dress, his smile never falters even when his index finger reaches the apex of your thighs a yelp of surprise leaves you but not making any effort to stop him.
He draws sluggish circles over your clothed clit that makes you bite your lip preventing yourself from forming too much noise, your cheeks heat up because of his ministrations yet you shamelessly spread your legs further apart for him to comfortably reach under your dress. Taehyung keeps his caress light, intent on not scaring you.  
”Of course I do Tae.” You tell him like it’s crazy that he even thought otherwise, Taehyung rewards your honest words by cupping your heat with his palm rubbing you firmly over your underwear his movements are uncoordinated because he had to divide his attention between you and the road but his touch feels good all the same.
”Fuck.” You curse when he grinds the heel of his palm over your throbbing clit. Just a few hours prior while you were getting into the dress Taehyung bought you, you would have never imagined that this night will end up with his fingers inside your underwear but you’re certainly not complaining.
”Tae, please.” A mewl that soon turned into a whimper was the last thread of his sanity when he finally pulled aside the damp material that started to cling onto your skin uncomfortably, his finger got coated with your excitement as he slowly rubbed your heat sliding his finger up and down your slit nudging your lips apart so he can dive deeper.
Impatient you gripped his wrist and lowered his hand so his finger was closer to your entrance, reading between the lines Taehyung circled his digit around your clenching hole before easing a finger inside curling it experimentally inside you that earned the loudest moan so far. The angle is awkward but he tries to move his fingers in and out of you to the best of his abilities while he keeps his eyes on the empty road.
He felt his cock harden under his pants even more due to the sweet noises you make for him the feel of you so wet and needy sucking his finger inside and clenching around him, you truly were the woman of his dreams.
You remove his hand licking his finger that’s coated with your essence clean before you move to open up his zipper. Taehyung’s hand fists into your hair when he realises you’re about to give him a blowjob.
”Fuck, this is so dangerous.” He curses but doesn’t pull your head back when you lick his swollen tip. Taehyung forces his eyes to stay open as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking and licking along his shaft.
You have one hand on his strong thigh to keep yourself hunched over him as you try not to interfere with his driving.
Moving your mouth up and down you keep your movements slow but make sure you suck every time his tip reaches the back of your throat breathing through your nose you lick into his slit when you reach the head of his cock.
Taehyung’s grip on the steering wheel makes his knuckles go white with the force to keep the car in line while you keep sucking him off. You give the most attention to his sensitive tip as he’s already close to cumming.
You pull off before he could. Watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach, precum drooling from the tip mixed with your saliva. He’s truly a sight and you get to admire him close as his chest moves rapidly sucking in ragged breaths, you can tell that he wants to cum so bad.
”If you drive faster you can get more than just my mouth on your cock.” You tease him tucking his painfully erect cock back into his pants, Taehyung continues to look ahead watching the road, clearly frustrated that you didn’t let him cum but steps on the accelerator to give the car more speed. Can’t wait to finally have you.
”Just wait till we get home, you’re going to regret teasing me, baby.” His voice is deep, hoarse from the moans and dark with evident sexual frustration, you know he’s still hard inside his pants but willing to wait until he could bury his dick inside your sweet cunt.
You’re in for a wild night. If you can still walk the next morning you’re going to send a gift basket to his mother to thank her for intervening because if it weren’t for her you two would still play that game of cat and mouse. Maybe thank Jimin too.
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fw00shy · 3 years
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Prophesy
For @drarrymicrofic prompt, better than fighting. This is a 1.4k "microfic" lmao. You can read on AO3 as well as here.
You know when you look at someone and just know they're no good? Pansy says it's a sure sign that they pissed you off in a past life. I tell her that's about the funniest shite I've ever heard. I don't need divinity to explain myself; I've always been good at reading people. That's just how I am.
Say, Pansy. I knew we'd hit it off the moment I saw her head-to-toe in Prada, her hair as glossy as volcanic glass. That's not fate: that's good taste. And Crabbe, well — that one is a bit odd, I'll give you that. Lord knows why I have a soft spot for him when he's far too much trouble for his worth. Nearly got me killed once or twice, even. Not literally, of course — just at the bars, when he drinks me under the table. Pansy says he's "mine" the same way Theo is "hers"; I've never cared for Theo. He seems the type of guy who holds back while you make a rash of bad decisions. Mind you, Pansy isn't much better either, but at least she's always right there, too, making the same damn mistakes.
Pansy asked me what Theo did to piss me off so much. I made up some lie about how he didn't warn me about a rotted foundation on a house I was trying to sell, but really, I don't know why I think that about Theo. I'm a genius people-reader, alright? And I don't question intuition.
So I'm not worried when Blaise calls me in to meet a high-profile client. Rich geezers, they're all the same. And I've seen this one plenty in the newsstands before, so I've already sussed him out. He always looks like he doesn't want to be there. A bit sullen — dead inside — but harmless enough.
"Seems a trifle odd, doesn't it?" I tell Pansy that morning. "He could've called me direct. My number's on half the park benches around his neighbourhood."
"Maybe he thinks you'll say no," Pansy says. She has that faraway look in her eyes she gets every morning before the caffeine kicks in.
"Why would I say no?" I laugh. "I'd be an idiot to give up a million-pound commission."
She's not paying attention to me. Her eyes bug out and her lips part. It's like she's in a bloody trance. I swear she does it just to piss me off.
I'm still thinking about her ugly mug when I'm going up to Blaise's office. He's got the entire penthouse of the building for him to sign papers, and the elevator ride up the twenty-three floors leaves plenty of time for spacing out. So I'm caught off guard when, coming out of the elevator, Harry Potter smacks straight into me and all I want to do is kill him.
Oh lord, how I want to kill him. My rage builds so strong that I'm taken out of my body. Where I go, I don't know. But when I come to, Potter is gone and I'm sitting across from Blaise.
Blaise has his pitying face on, the one he practices in the mirror. His hands are clasped over the expansive walnut desk (live edge, of course), his suit as green as Potter's eyes.
Potter's eyes. Merlin, I barely remember meeting the man, but it's all I can think of now. That luxurious, deep emerald. Green as everything I ever wanted.
"No," I say. "I won't take him on."
"Dee," Blaise says, gentle. His brows raise.
I'm on the spin bike at the gym trying to blow off some steam when Pansy calls and says, "Blaise is right, you know," her voice tinny above the whirl of bikes around me. "You'll be stupid to walk away from a million pounds over a premonition."
"He's a lying tramp, I swear. I'll put in all this work, set up the listing, stage the place, and then he'll change his mind and walk right out. I know. He's a ticking time bomb."
"So...." she giggles, "what'd you think he did?"
I'm confused for a second, but then I realise she's probably talking about her reincarnation theory again.
"Don't you dare start on this past life shite," I warn. "I'm not in the damn mood."
"Maybe he razed your lands. Ohhh, can you imagine, Harry Potter — a viking? All that fur… mm, and those horned helmets. Sure makes me horny —"
"Jesus, woman. I'm at the gym."
"Okay, okay," she says. "Since you're at the gym, what about this: Harry Potter as naughty, lying George Wickham. And you: the poor Lydia Bennet, tricked into a life of poverty and ridicule for the rest of your days. Embittered, you —"
"That's Jane Austen, that's not even real life," I say before hanging up.
I meet Potter at his Islington townhouse the following Tuesday. He's a capital C celebrity so he's got no regular day job, which makes him horrifying easy to slot into my schedule.
"You're late," I say as soon as he opens the front door. He runs a hand through his tangled hair — soft, I know — and bleats out an apology as I brush past him into the grim, old place. The hallway is long and dark. There's a kitchen in the far west corner overlooking the garden. And upstairs there are three bedrooms, of which the medium-sized one is his because it faces east, and he enjoys waking sun-rumpled and satisfied.
The floorplan, I pulled from public records. The rest, I — well, I don't know. I just know. I know it with such vivaciousness that I can see us there, on his — no, our — bed, his arm thrown across my chest, and I —
"Draco?" he asks, tentative. Like he's found something he's lost but isn't sure what to do with it, yet.
My hands clam up, my heart racing back to the present. He's only a foot from me, his doe eyes searching. I know what it feels like to pull him in by the waist, to watch those lids flutter shut as we kiss. And I know he knows this too, so I lean in and punch his face.
"He called me Draco," I say to Pansy later. "Draco. Only my mother calls me Draco, and she's been dead a full decade."
"You're crazy, Dee," Pansy says, patting my hand with hers on the bar counter. "What did you do after? Get on your knees to kiss his arse so he'd keep you on?"
"Bloody hell, no. I bolted the fuck out of there thinking I lost the biggest deal of my life. But then the next day, Blaise calls and says Potter stopped by the office. Says could I get him a list of stagers, all cool and shite like nothing had happened!"
"Hm… maybe you two are more Troilus and Cressida than Brutus and Caesar. Ohh, or Achilles and Patroclus. God, yes. That fits so well —"
"Good God, woman! Unless Patroclus was trying to sell Achilles' ionic column abode, I don't want to hear another peep of past lives from you."
Pansy pushes her martini to me and waits for me to drain it before signalling for another round. "I'm only saying," she says, tapping her square-tip nails on the stem of the glass, "Kissing. Fucking, even. Wouldn't that be better than fighting?"
Naturally, I choke on my drink.
I meet with Potter the next day and manage to get through the walkthrough without any further hallucinations or fisticuffs. I call Greg up to stage the place and we go through the house again the following week. Potter's in the kitchen when Greg leaves and offers me a cup of tea while I wait for my car. I'm out of excuses and exhausted from the day, so I accept.
"Draco," he says when he hands the cup to me. Two sugars, a splash of milk. I try not to think about how he knows.
"Why do you call me that?" I ask instead, blustering.
"Why do you call me Potter?" he retorts. He's smiling, but I can tell he's not really happy. It's the same smile the paparazzi catches him with.
"I don't know," I say because I don't. My tongue knows his name better than I do.
I can't keep my eyes off of his as he comes up to me. "Draco," he says my name like he had a claim to it, long ago. I let him loosen the cup from my hand and push me up onto the counter. The angle's better here; perfect if I want to slide my hand up to his cheek and through his hair. He smells like broomstick and phoenix ash. I love him, I know. But it's not supposed to be this easy.
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I Had To Know Pain Before I Could Be Comforted
Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Fem Reader
Requested by @steveyouarelate : “37 (Lie to me. I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.) and 50 (I’m sorry I’m not enough for you) (with an happy ending, please) with billie dean x reader”
A/N: there’s a lot of crying and wallowing in self-pity in this one, you’ve been warned. I wanted it to have a tragic ending but you asked for happy, so here you go. I hope you’ll like it <3
Title is a line translated from this song.
Word count: ≈ 3 700
Someone catcalled you from across the street but you didn’t find it in you to care. You had no idea where you were. Night was falling, the cold, crisp air was biting your cheeks and making your whole body shiver. You could barely feel your fingers anymore. Your feet hurt. But the pain and the cold felt good. If you could, you would close your eyes and let yourself sink into it to forget everything else.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored it. You kept on walking, straight ahead, left around a corner, past an old man sitting on a bench. He said something to you you did not understand. A car honked nearby. Let it. Let it hit you and put an end to your misery.
Your phone buzzed again. “Oh for fuck’s sake, leave me alone,” you muttered. But even as you said it, your hand reached in your pocket for your phone. Your heart swelled with a bubble of hope, that perhaps it would be her, that perhaps her words would be the right ones and they would make everything better. You turned on the screen and read your notifications.
Coming home soon? x
I’m making mackerel in white wine
It was the cold wind that made you tear up, nothing else. Certainly not the image of Billie in the kitchen, dressed in comfy clothes, sipping a glass of expensive white wine, hips swaying to some mellow jazz song as she chopped herbs and vegetables and stirred the sauce. Sassy, brave, confident, and just a little bit reckless Billie. How you adored her. She was everything to you.
Blinking back your tears, you texted her back a few words saying you were going to spend the night at your dad’s. That was a lie, but you really couldn’t face her right now.
And it wasn’t your fault, really. You had never meant to be so messed-up. But Billie – she was the sun, she was the moon and the stars in the sky and beyond, no matter how cliché that sounded, and you… you were lying on the ground covered with dirt. You were nothing. You had not achieved a single good thing in your life. You couldn’t talk to people without making a complete fool of yourself, you had no talent, no beauty, only a boring, dull personality.
You carried that knowledge in your chest like a rock. Most of the time its weight was bearable; but there were days when the rock seemed to expand and expand until it took all the room in your chest. When that happened, nothing could bring you relief. Negativity would cloud your mind. Dark little thoughts would chirp in your ears like birds in the spring. Useless, they would sing. Boring. Worthless, they would sing.
Today was one of those days. You had woken up with a feeling of dread and dejection and it had required all of your strength to get out of bed. Luckily Billie had left for work early; you didn’t want to bother her with your problems and your bad mood. And then things had just gotten worse and worse.
Today you had lost your job. Your boss had warned you several times before: you weren’t as efficient as your co-workers, you didn’t work fast enough, didn’t smile enough. You simply were not enough. So today he had held the front door open for you and slammed it behind you and had not even bothered to hide his satisfied smirk. Since then, you had walked. Roamed the streets, tried to make one with the cold.
Your phone rang. Billie’s name appeared on your screen. You stared at it for a moment before you accepted the call. You knew she may very well drive to your dad’s if you ignored her, and then what? She’d know you had lied to her. Besides, a tiny part of you was still hoping she would know what to say, she would just know, without you having to tell her, and that rock in your chest would turn to dust and flowers would bloom in its place.
“Hi sweetpea,” said Billie. Her voice was cheerful, but you knew her well enough now to hear the tinge of worry in it.
“Hey,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand. Are you mad?”
There was a soft clang, something metallic being moved. “Of course I’m not. But are you sure you’re alright?”
You closed your eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m fine. My dad just really needs company right now.”
Did she even care? Or was she relieved that you wouldn’t be spending the night together?
“I’m sorry you made dinner for me,” you went on, eyes still shut tight.”I should have warned you, but he –“
“It’s fine, Y/N, really,” Billie cut you off. “We have that wonderful thing called a fridge that I can use to store leftovers.”
A small laugh escaped you.
“But I’ll miss you,” Billie said. She paused, and again you pictured her, her free hand on the counter, fingers drumming, an apron tied around her waist, hair as perfectly done as if she were about to attend a movie premiere. Another small laugh escaped you, affectionate, incredibly sad.
“Me too. I’ll be back tomorrow. Love you.”You hung up before she had time to say it back. You weren’t sure you could hear those words from her right now.
What would she think when you told her you had lost the one thing that still made you a person of value to the world? You couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on her face. She would be kind, of course, and tell you not to worry. Maybe she would even say that she still loved you. But that wouldn’t be true. Billie deserved someone who, like her, had shot for the stars and made it. Someone who shone as bright as she did, someone she could be proud of – not a liability like you.
You walked. When you took a look at your surroundings, you realized you didn’t know that part of the city. It looked like a wealthy residential neighbourhood, big white houses with large porches, impeccably mown lawns. The streets were deserted. You walked.
Spending the night at your dad’s wasn’t even an option. He was too boisterous, too loud. Your best friend would know something was wrong the minute she’d take a look at your face, and then she would ask questions, demand answers you didn’t want to give her. So you kept on walking, dragging around that rock which after so many years had become a part of you. You didn’t even know if you would want to get rid of it. It felt like company now.
A bridge, across a canal. Past the city hall. You reached downtown, busy, wild, buzzing with life. People brushed past you and laughed at each other and talked too loudly. The city watched you roam without offering the least bit of comfort. You had tried to find solace in its streets hundreds of times before, fueled by the naive belief that the city would welcome you with open arms and a kind smile. But the city was indifferent and selfish. The city sneered at the lost souls that wandered the night.
Maybe you could get a hotel room. You stopped in front of the first hotel you found and stared at the door, but soon realized you were incapable of going in. It was as if your legs had frozen, as if some sort of force were pushing you away. So you walked on. Your heart was secretly singing for home.
But you couldn’t go home. You couldn’t do that to Billie. You were a burden to her, and that had to stop. She had too many great things to achieve, a whole future made of gold and diamonds and glorious victories, to be held down by someone like you. So shut up, you ordered your heart. Don’t yearn for something you do not deserve.
You walked. You walked until you were sure your feet were bleeding and every muscle in your legs was screaming in agony. A little past midnight your mind went numb. You walked. At 1am a dog barked at you, at 1:34 a drunk whistled and called for you to come with him. At 2:30 you finally looked up and realized your aching feet had led you back home.
You tried, you really did, to go away. Go back downtown, get a freaking hotel room to spend the night. Your feet led you to the front door, your hand turned the key in the lock. You could sleep on the couch, you told yourself. You could sleep on the couch, and leave at dawn before Billie woke up.
The house was dark and silent. You waited a few seconds, your heart beating fast in your chest, listening for any sound, any indication that Billie was still awake. Nothing. You took off your coat and shoes, and dropped your bag on the floor. You waited a few seconds more. When you had convinced yourself Billie was asleep, you tip-toed all the way to the living-room. The floor was cold under your feet, the walls seemed to be closing in on you in the dark.
You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but you weren’t sure your stomach could hold food right now. All you wanted was to collapse on the couch and bury your face in the pillows and sleep. Forget that you existed.
Your right foot slammed into a suitcase you had not bothered to put away earlier in the day. A curse escaped you, low and angry, and out of the corner of your eye you saw something stir in the darkness of the living-room. You jumped, raising an arm to defend yourself, and squinted at the shape that straightened and turned, light from outside falling on strawberry blond hair.
Billie reached out to turn on a lamp and grimaced as the bright light blinded her. She raised one hand to shield her eyes, blinking away sleep. There was a red mark on her left cheek, and you quickly realised she had fallen asleep at the table while doing crosswords. She often did that, when she couldn’t sleep. Crosswords helped her focus when her mind was buzzing with too many thoughts.
She met your eyes, blinked again, and then she smiled. You stood frozen as if you had turned into a statue, the mad pumping of your heart the only sign that you were still alive.
You could have tried to make a joke. You could have lied to her again, said you had tucked your dad in and left. Instead, your throat closed up, your heart dropped into your stomach, and to your utter shame and despair you felt your eyes fill with tears.
You were so tired. How so tired of being you.
All you wanted was to sink into Billie’s arms.
For a minute there was only silence. You watched as Billie’s expression turned from surprised to happy to confused. Oh God, what would she think of you? How she would despise you. She would think you were a sad, pitiful creature and she would be right.
You prayed for something, anything, an earthquake, a meteor crash, a tidal wave even though you lived miles from the ocean, that would put an end to your miserable life.
Billie stood up, smoothing one hand over her wrinkled clothes. Only now did you notice that she hadn’t changed from work. Had she been waiting for you this whole time? Your heart tightened in your chest. No, that couldn’t be. She had probably tried to make the best of her one evening of freedom, her one happy evening when she could celebrate your being finally out of her hair.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” she said with a small smug smile. She held out one hand as if to touch you and you flinched. She noticed, and her smile wavered.
“Are you alright?”
“I –“ With a shake of your head you took a few steps away from her, your throat thick with tears, and when you shot her a glance her face was blurry but you could still see the damned worry in her eyes –
“Y/N what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice getting higher and shaky as it always did when she was anxious. She walked up to you, but kept enough distance between you and her so as not to make you feel cornered.
“I lost my job.” The words tumbled out without permission. You were so tired. You just wanted to be held. “I got fired because I couldn’t do my job properly.”
Silence.
That was it, then. You had lost her. She was seeing you for who you really were; the veil love had dropped over her eyes was finally being lifted.
You couldn’t look at her, so you closed your eyes and let your tears fall.
“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, one hand coming up to your chest for it was too tight, it was crushing your heart and it hurt too much. “Billie, I’m so sorry I keep disappointing you.”
A hand, on your arm. A question, barely above a whisper. “Honey, what do you mean?”
A sob pushed out of your throat, loud and painful and so despicable. “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you.”
She let out a noise, a gasp, but to you it sounded like a contemptuous, mocking laugh, a laugh that said, Look at you, pitiful, pitiful little creature.
“Y/N,” she started, but you shook your head. You still couldn’t look at her.
“Listen, I’ll get my things, I understand. Just – let me sleep here tonight. Please. I’ll sleep on the couch, only for tonight, and then I’ll leave I’ll – “
“Y/N what are you talking about?”
You felt her grip on your arm tighten, acrylics digging into your skin.
“Just one more night, please, Billie,” you begged.
“Shut up. Stop talking. You’re not making any sense, honey.”
“I’m so sorry,” you cried.
A hand on your cheek. You almost flinched, almost recoiled, but you managed to stop yourself from doing so. There was no need to hurt her more than you already had.
“Please stop apologizing,” Billie whispered. Why did she sound so broken? “Tell me what to do. What can I do?”
You shook your head again, choked on a sob. Billie’s thumb was gently stroking your cheek, catching your tears and wiping them away.
“Lie to me,” you whispered. “I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again. Tell me I can be enough for you.” You opened your eyes, then, and looked up at her. And you could have hit yourself, you could have stabbed your chest and ripped off your heart, for her face was coated with tears that dripped down her chin, and her gaze was so terribly sad.
She let out a strangled breath. “Oh, Y/N… come here, come here baby.”
You didn’t even try to fight her. Your body sank into hers like a stone into water. Your hands slid up her back to grab fistfuls of her shirt as you buried your face in her shoulder. She wrapped one arm around your waist and put her other hand on the back of your head, pressing you closer against her. She was being so gentle, so loving, dropping kisses on your temple, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear – it only made you cry harder. Because you were going to lose this, to lose her, and you’d never have the strength nor the will to find that kind of sweet love ever again.
She started humming, a soft tune, as she rocked you like a child and you sobbed and wailed. Her voice was always a little bit raspy when she sang, a little bit out of tune, never quite managing to hit the right notes. Hearing her sing always soothed you. She ran her fingers through your hair, acrylics gently grazing your skull, just the way you liked it, because it always made your skin tingle everywhere.
Damn her, she knew you so well. She knew exactly how to help you calm down, how to make part of that ache in your chest disappear.
Minutes passed. Billie was still humming when you finally felt like you could breathe again. You turned your head, pressed your cheek against her shoulder – her blouse was wet now, you had done that, ruined it as you always ruined everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, relishing the smell of her, so precious, so loved – you would have to keep it safely stored in your mind to never forget it. Maybe, on the darkest of nights to come, when everything and everyone would fail to soothe your soul, if you closed your eyes tight enough you would be able to conjure her scent again, and then sleep would finally come.
Billie’s hand slid down the side of your face to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes, counted to three, then pulled away.
Her gaze was still so very sad when you met her eyes, but she managed to offer you a smile. She gracefully wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Why are you crying?” you frowned.
Billie let out an incredulous laugh. “Did you hear what you said to me?”
There was no reproach in her voice, only sadness, and that felt like a stab to your heart.
“I’m sor –“you started, but she interrupted you with a slender finger on your lips.
“I told you to stop apologizing.” She offered you another shaky smile, but then her brow pushed up in concern. “Did I –“Her voice broke. She swallowed, tried again. “Did I do something to make you feel like you were not enough?”
Did she… what? You weren’t sure you had heard her properly. Had those words really left her mouth, or had they been uttered by a malicious spirit? How could Billie, Billie who was so considerate, so loving, so utterly perfect – how could she think she had done anything wrong?
Her face crumpled as she misinterpreted your silence. “Oh no baby, I’m so s –“she started, but you interrupted her.
“No, Billie, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Your voice was hoarse from crying. You shook your head, biting your lower lip to hold back fresh tears. “You’ve been so good to me. The best thing that ever happened to me. The truth is, you’ve been too good and I don’t… I don’t want to hold you back.” She opened her mouth to protest, but you shook your head again, a silent pleading to let you finish. “Now that I’ve lost my job you’re gonna have to provide for me and I can’t let you do that. I can’t be a burden I can’t –“
Again, a finger on your lips. You fell silent. Something in you disappeared and you felt your body go limp, as if there was no strength left in you.
Billie’s finger gently tapped your lips as she gazed at you thoughtfully.
“I don’t mind providing for you while you look for another job,” she said after a while. Her brow furrowed. “Or maybe you should take a break. Maybe I should, too. We could go somewhere nice and relax for a while.”
“But I –“Another tap on your lips.
“But you –“you tried again, but again she interrupted you. You planted a kiss on her finger in retaliation, and were rewarded with a small smile.
“I couldn’t sleep without you,” Billie said in a low voice. Her eyes met yours, kind and vulnerable. “You’re not a disappointment, Y/N. It’s got to the point I cannot even imagine my future without you.”
You couldn’t help it: you dissolved into tears again. Billie cooed and gently guided your head against her shoulder. You clang to her, hoping you could get rid of your negative thoughts with every sob. It didn’t work like that, you knew it, but when you were in Billie’s arms it almost seemed life could be easy and kind.
You didn’t pull away when your tears subsided. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying Billie’s embrace, her hand running through your hair, her warmth. You felt thoroughly empty now, thoroughly spent. Sleep weighed on your eyelids. You wrapped your arms around Billie’s waist and pulled her closer still, breathed in her scent and let out a sigh.
“What happened?” Billie whispered after a while.
“I told you.” You nuzzled her shoulder. “I lost my job.”
“No, I mean… what happened?”
You got her meaning, somehow, as if your mind were perfectly attuned to hers. You hesitated. Swallowed hard.
“I don’t know,” you said in a breath. “Sometimes it feels like I can never be a viable option for anyone, especially not for you. I know it’s stupid, I know I have no real reasons to feel that way. But I can’t help it.”
Billie hummed. She dropped a kiss on your forehead, warm lips lingering on your skin. “I love you,” she said, voice firm and raspy. She ran one hand up and down your back, nails scratching gently.”And I want you, even when you’re at your lowest and ugliest, even when you don’t have a job.”Her hand slipped over your shoulder, under your chin, titled your head up. She waited for you to meet her eyes. “You’re allowed to not be at your best all the time. That doesn’t make you worthless.”
And as you gazed at her with half lidded eyes, her words sank into you and settled in your chest and bloomed there. Eased the ache. Maybe only for a few hours, maybe only for a few days, but it was all you needed right now. And somehow she had known exactly what to say. And she would know what to say the next time.
You blinked sleepily, and she cooed, smiled a smile that was half fond, half smug. “Do you need to get some shut-eye, my little bear?”
You rolled your eyes at her, but were betrayed by a yawn. Her smile grew into a smirk.
“Shut up,” you muttered, as you buried your face in her chest, nuzzled the exposed skin, and smiled.
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cuddlemen0w · 3 years
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daily dose of failure | peter parker x reader
(+ the group aka mj, ned and harry)
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a/n: heyaaa here’s part 2 and it’s longer than the first part so i hope it’s ok! ;) i’m still going with mostly peter’s pov cuz that’s what i wanna do duh.. also mj is gay now. deal with it. and i fancasted harrison as harry osborn :)
warnings: language, anxiety. are those warnings?
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gif is from pinterest
previous
“For the record, I did not ghost you,” Peter said as he walked through the crowded hallway, Ned and Harry on each side of him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry huffs and rolls his eyes. “What were you doing then?” He shoots him an accusing eye.
“Self loathing?” Peter avoided eye contact, instead he played with the strap on his backpack. His two friends stare at him more intensely. “Fine! I ghosted you.”
“What are you taking about?” y/n’s cheery voice made them jump.
“You,” Ned immediately says, receiving a slap to the back of his head from Harry. “Did you not learn from yesterday?”
But y/n nor Peter heard Ned’s or Harry’s comments. And if one of them did, they ignored it.
“So, I saw you enjoyed yesterday?”
“Oh yes! But it’d be way better if you were there,” y/n’s voice softens then. “But at least I could have cheese nachos,” she joked.
“Ew,” Peter made a face as he shivered all over. “But whatever makes you happy.” His face was still crunched from the thought of the ‘nasty looking garbage food’ as he called it. The girl before him only laughed.
“It’s good, you’d know it if you’d actually try it.”
“Hell no, I’m not touching that.”
“Fine,” she says, her back already turning to go to her first class.
“No! I didn’t mean it! I swear!” he smiles finally. “I never mean it.”
y/n stops in her tracks, her beamy grin back on her face. “Sure thing, Petey.”
Peter’s cheeks warm up at the nickname, still not used to it even after all the years. He’s loved her for all of them.
He remembers the first time she called him that. They had one of their movie nights, this time at his place. With May gone to work, he had permission to let his friends stay the night. MJ was in the kitchen making popcorn along with Harry who was grabbing some soda. Ned was on a ‘pee break’. y/n cuddled up to him, her head on his shoulder, her breath brushing his neck. “Thank you, Petey.” What for? he asked that night. “This, all of this.” She broke up with a boy that night. He felt bad for being happy about it.
“Peter?” she broke him out of his thoughts. “You have math now right?”
He made a noise in response. If it was an agreement or confusion, she didn’t know. He stared at her for a moment longer. “Oh! Math!” he realised, he grabbed his books from the locker and sprinted away.
“Weirdo,” MJ appeared out of nowhere, startling the girl. Her hand shot up to her chest.
“I told you not to do that!”
“Well, you should know I never listen. Anyway, are you going to tell him or what?” MJ asks, swinging her arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“Tell him what?” y/n tried to play innocent. Her act faltering at the sight of MJ. Her brow raised and a knowing look on her face.
She groaned, “I’m still waiting for a sign if he even likes me like that.”
“You’re so oblivious.” MJ said quietly, shaking her head.
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Peter locked his screen just as he saw Ned, y/n and MJ entering the lunch hall and heading for his table. His food splayed all over it along with a few of his textbooks, serving as a clear sign of holding someone’s place. He started cleaning his mess up when they neared him.
“If it’s another party I swear I’m ending our friendship,” MJ said as she bit into her sandwich.
“I’m with you on that,” y/n nudged her friend. “But if there’s any cute girls,” she wiggled her brows at MJ. Giggling slightly.
“Oh shut up!”
“What— What do you mean?” Peter panicks. All the colour from his face is out. What if she isn’t into boys at all? HOW COULD I NOT NOTICE? he freaks out internally.
MJ joined y/n in her laughter. She laughed so hard a few tears escaped her eyes. “Oh my!”
The latter is the one to break out of it first. Coughing slightly from laughing in between bites. “Cute girls, as in, for MJ.”
Peter’s eyes narrow. “What?” he said, his mouth open in confusion. All around the table, they could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Oh!”
“Yes, oh!” MJ’s laughter died down a bit. Only a tiny bit.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s ok Peter, although I recon I told all of you,” MJ narrows her eyes now.
“Yes, but Peter wasn’t there,” Ned is the one to speak out. “He was doing— eh.”
Peter panicks again. Think of a quick lie! “Laundry!”
“Riiight,” MJ slowly nodded. “Because you totally know how to do that.”
y/n saved Peter from the intense stare of their friend, “C’mon MJ, let him breathe.”
“I just want to know what he’s doing all these times he ghosts us.” Well that’s a good point.
“As I said laundry.” Stick with one thing, he thinks to himself. “May wants me to learn, so I’ll know in college.” Damn, I’m good at this.
MJ glared one last time, “Sure.” She bit into the last piece of her lunch and left him only with Ned and y/n.
His palms sweat from being almost caught. He looked to his left, exchanging weird looks with Ned, then he turned to the girl opposite him. Her skin looked so beautiful in the midday, spring sun. Her hair looked soft for touch and her eyes coincidentally matched her shirt. “I— uh.. I gotta do laundry now actually, before we go to Harry’s. Okay, bye!” he excused himself quickly and almost ran out of the lunch hall.
“Weird huh?” Ned awkwardly said when only him and y/n remained.
“Yeah, weird.”
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Peter was doing ‘laundry’.
He swung along the many buildings in Queens, checking if the neighbourhood was friendly and safe. His mask clad face scanned the many little alleys. It was a moment of peace for him, he felt free flying above the streets.
But it faltered when his phone dinged in his suit. He jumped to one of the roofs and fished it from the pocked that Tony installed into his new suit.
He opened the phone to find out Harry’s text.
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“Yeah,” Peter said out loud. “This better be good.”
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Everyone showed up at Harry’s. His football friends, few cheerleaders, the squat — all except Peter.
“Of course,” MJ muttered as soon as she got there and the brown haired boy wasn’t present. “Dude’s gonna miss his own funeral at this point.”
“Yeah,” Ned laughed nervously. His fingers fidgeted and teeth bit his lower lip. MJ took notice of that after his laughter lasted suspiciously long. But she choose not to say anything, yet.
Harry was the one to ease the bit of tension in his house. “Don’t worry, he’s gonna show up.” He paused to grab a drink. “Told me himself. And he’s got a surprise.”
“Surprise would be him showings up.”
“Well, who am I to tell what it is?”
MJ looked between her two male friends. Her eyes almost boring into their soul. “You two know something,” she stated. “And I’m gonna find out what.”
y/n entered the room right after Ned almost choked on his drink from fright. “Something wrong Neddy?”
“No, no. Not at all,” he smiled, like a kid caught doing something they shouldn’t. “We’re just talking about Peter.”
“What about him? Have you seen him? Is he going to show up?” she could go on but Harry saved them all.
“Yup, he’ll be here any moment now.”
The girl let out a relieved sighn, her shoulders relaxing and the fake half smile dropping from her lips. “Thank god, the more time I spent with your damn friends the more I wish I was ghosting you too.” She points to Harry.
“Peter is not ghosting us, remember? He’s doing laundry,” he points out. Making y/n laugh, Ned chuckle nervously and MJ to huff. “Don’t worry, he’ll show up. I threatened him.”
All of sudden, the door bell rang though the big Osborn house. Everyone around the living room fell silent, only the music played from the speakers. A blonde boy, that was closest to the hall went to open the door.
After a very awkward two minutes of silence, the guy returned with a stunned expression. His eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
“Who was it?” one of the other boys asked, but he didn’t need an answer. Right after the blonde, a red clad man walked in. Spider-man. In Harry Osborn’s house. The murmurs started to float around the room.
“Hi!” Peter said from his spot. He remembered himself. “Hello,” he said more deeply. There’s too many people, he thought. And all of them are looking at me. He had a sudden urge to mess his hair, something he did when he was nervous or stressed. Right now, he was both. But the superhero mask was in the way.
“I uh,” he paused to look at all the faces. Most had hanging mouths out of shock, some had eyes full of awe. His vision quickly found the one he was here for. y/n was standing between MJ and Ned. She was one of those in shock, but her mouth wasn’t hanging, nor were her eyes wide. She was one of those pinned to their place, unmoving, utterly shocked to do anything.
“I’m here to say something.” Peter’s voice trembled. All the confidence he told himself he has in the suit was gone. He was just a boy, standing before a girl in a room full of people. “My friend,” he nodded to assure, more himself than others. “He uh,” his breathing picked up. “He’s in,” his eyes glossed inside the red suit. “He’s in danger!” he let out.
“Peter?” y/n almost yelled out.
Peter freaked out. He was sure he fucked up now.
To his relief, she worriedly continued, “Peter is in danger?”
“Yes!” Play it cool Parker, play it cool. “I— Peter needs Ned, Ned Leeds.”
Ned pointed at himself, unsure what his best friend meant. “Yes, you! Now hurry, or he’ll be in much bigger trouble!” He then grabbed Ned’s arm. “Come on,” he whispered furiously.
They only stopped once they were far enough, that no one could eavesdrop or see them from a window. Ned panted from the quick pace Peter set. “What— what is— what’s going on?”
“I can’t do it!” Peter whisper-yelled. His mask in his hand now. “I thought, maybe if it wasn’t entirely me, I’d say it. But I can’t!” the vision of the mask in his hand blurred behind the tears. “I’m a coward! As always I am!”
Ned neared his best friend. “It’s okay, Pete.”
“It’s not!” he burst out, throwing his hands into the air, his face red. “I’m the biggest fucking loser in the goddamn universe!”
“It’s really not that bad.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because she likes you too.” It was a familiar voice. Behind them, MJ stood with her hands crossed. Both boy’s breaths hitched. “Yeah I know, Peter is Spider-man. What a surprise!” she mocked. “You really thought you were slick huh?”
“How?” Peter motioned between himself, the mask and her. His tears long forgotten, replaced by disbelief.
“Well, I started to notice your weird disappearances, and that,” she pointed far to the house behind her. “Was very obvious.”
“Does anyone else—”
“Know? If Harry doesn’t, then I don’t think so.”
Peter shook his head. “Good,” he breathed out.
MJ cocked her head, “Don’t mind me asking. But what the hell was that?” Again, she pointed to the big house.
“I tried to tell y/n my feelings,” he said, as a matter of fact. “Didn’t go very well.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Didn’t expect anything more from myself.”
Ned and MJ shared a look. Both stepped closer to the now kneeling Peter. Their hands soothed his back as they too sat down on the lawn under the night sky. “You should’ve told us that you wanted to tell her. We could’ve helped,” MJ said into the dark night. “She would’ve told you the same, you know.”
“What?” He looked up from the green grass. His head turning from MJ to Ned for reassurance, only to receive a nod from his best friend.
“She likes you a lot.”
“Like a lot lot,” Ned added in and nudged his friend.
Peter breathed in the night’s air. His heart beating a bit faster, not from anxiety anymore, but from joy. His tears dried out completely now, he only sniffled here and there.
“Okay then, what’s the plan?”
next
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aliwritesfic · 3 years
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The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)
Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname
Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3
W/C: 1.7k
Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)
Part 1 Part 6
The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.
“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?
“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”
You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.
“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.
“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”
Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”
“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”
You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.
You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?
All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.
~*~
Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.
“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.
“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.
“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.
“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”
At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”
You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.
“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.
“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.
You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.
“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”
As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.
“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.
“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”
Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.
“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”
“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”
You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?
“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.
“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.
But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.
So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.
Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM
Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.
Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM
Frankie wrote his message quickly.
Wouldn’t miss it x
He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.
“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.
“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.
“Money?”
“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”
“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.
“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”
“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”
“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”
“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”
“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.
“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”
“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”
“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”
“I don’t have a kid.”
“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”
“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”
Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.
He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.
He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.
Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish
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heyitsmerose · 3 years
Text
Ateez Reaction to their s/o calling them when they’re in danger (maknae line)
TW: Sensitive content and mentions of abuse
Word Count: 2.6k
Mature Language*
San: (creep at the beach)
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(From the perspective on San’s Girlfriend - read pt.1 for Yunho’s girlfriend’s pov)
You and San were at the beach with the rest of Ateez and their girlfriends. It was a nice way to get away from their busy lifestyles as idols and for everyone to just have a day off. You and Yunho’s girlfriend were quite close and decided to go shell collecting together.
The rest of Ateez’s and Ateez girlfriends were taking pictures, building sand castles and having fun, while Yunho and his Mingi went to go get ice cream for everyone.
You were laughing and giggling with one another, collecting sea shells, and comparing one another’s like kids, until two tall men interrupted the both of you.
“Hey ladies! are you here at the beach to have a fun time?” One of them said. You, being the bubbly and friendly person that you were, decided to respond and make conversation.
“Yeah, we’re just collecting seashells” You smiled back at them 
“with our boyfriends” Yunho’s girlfriend added
“Hey, it’s alright they’re just being nicee” You whispered back to her
“You never know” she just shrugged back
“Anyways, do you girls know where we can pick up some hot ladies” At this point, you looked a little uncomfortable. Who just comes up and asks you stuff like that?
“There’s a bar up ahead, hope you find what youre looking for, it was nice talking to you” Yunho’s girlfriend sternly said. You were glad to have a stricter mom friend like her, she was quick to take charge. She grabbed your arm and turned the opposite direction, and you gladly accepted.
“Hey, no, no wait up, we just want to talk” The other man grabbed her wrist.
“Let go of me” She sternly said. You tried prying his arm off of her wrist but to no avail. You were starting to get a little scared. It was surprising how she was able to keep her composure
“We need to go back now, let me go!” Yunho’s girlfriend yelled at him. At this point your eyes were watering. This was such an overwhelming and scary situation, not to mention, these men were way taller than you and could easily do anything they pleased. That thought gave you shivers.
The man holding Yunho’s girlfriends arm looked to his friend and his friend then looked at you. He walked closer, and you tried taking a step back. Before you could however, he gripped your chin and neck with one of his hands while the other was one your shoulder. You felt disgusted and at this point, the tears were already flowing out your eyes.
“Let go of me!” You yelled at him, trying to step back, only for his nails to further dig into your shoulder
“Let us go!” Yunho’s girlfriend yelled at the both of them. She then managed to kick and shove the one holding you onto the ground and you were free. You looked back at her with watery eyes, she just nodded at you and told you to call someone for help. Looking at the situation you both were in, you got more overwhelmed and fell to the ground with your phone in your hands fumbling on the dial pad, trying to call someone. You called Yunho, as you were scared for his girlfriend. 
[Yunho-yah] You cried on the phone
[Hey, hey, hey, Y/n, what’s wrong]
[We were collecting seashells and these 2 men started talking to us and touching us, please come get us] you tried getting the words out
[What the hell!? both of you stay right there, me and San are coming to get you, don’t worry. Stay on the call with me okay, you’re going to be alright]
[Please hurry, they’re hurting her] You sobbed loudly scared for your friend.
You then looked up to see the one that was holding you before was walking towards you. You tried to stand up, but your legs would not cooperate. The man abruptly pulled you up by your waist as you tried to get out of his grip. 
“Already falling for me, eh?” He said creepily
“No, please let me go” you tried saying as sternly as you could, only for it to come out as a bare whisper. He then proceeded to slip his hands under you white sundress, as you tried getting away. 
“Don’t touch me please! Im begging you!” you tried reasoning, while sobbing loudly.
“Y/N!” you heard your boyfriend San’s voice and relief flooded in. Yunho kicked the guy holding you and then ran to his girlfriend. As soon as the man let go of you, you fell to the sand crying and sobbing. San crouched down to your level and took you in his arms, sitting you on his lap. You hid your face from him trying to look down, however he grabbed your cheeks and made you look at him. You were surprised to see tears in his eyes too, flowing freely.
“What the hell is wrong with those creeps” San yelled as Yunho and his girlfriend both felt bad for the situation you were in. This man had inappropriately touched you, and you were scared.
You were hyperventilating and flinched at his touch and San had never felt more devastated.
“Baby, follow me okay” He guided your hand to his chest to feel his breathing. Soon enough, you started taking longer breaths and were no longer hyperventilating.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to protect you” He said, voice cracking at the end
“It’s not your fault” you reassured him leaning into him further. The last thing you wanted was for him to blame himself. 
For the rest of the afternoon, you noticed how two members had followed you at all times, and how San, specifically never let you out of his sight.
Mingi: (kidnapper)
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You and Mingi had just started dating, it had been a few months and you were slowly falling more in love with him. None of you had said it yet though. You lived separately and took turns to go to each other’s houses. You always looked forward to your week, when you had to visit his house though. Upon reaching his house, it was like heaven, it smelled like him and you couldnt have asked for more. Today, it was your turn to go to his house and you were excited to say the least. 
You quickly packed some gum, extra leggings, your phone and a charger with you. You plugged in your favourite song and began skipping down the streets carefree. It was around 4pm so you weren’t really too worried, however one thing that was weird was how empty the streets were. Shrugging it off, you began humming and walking to his house. It was a few blocks away, so you didn’t mind walking. 
After a few turns, you came across an older man, supposedly in his 40s with a young kid. It was quite normal to bring your kids with you on walks around the neighbourhood, so again you just decided to not pay to much attention to it. As you reached closer however, you could hear them arguing over the music, while the older man tried pushing the kid in your direction. You looked away, trying to be less awkward in this situation. The little kid shook their head a few times at the man and he glared at her. She soon ran up to me and tapped your leg. 
“Um, miss, I think you’re really pretty, here is a chocolate for you” The little kid gave you a chocolate and ran away back to the old man. He pat her head and they both turned away. You should realised how big of a red flag this was but, just shrugged it off and ate the chocolate. In a few minutes, you started feeling dizzy. Mingi’s house was still around 5 minutes away, so you just decided to call him to pick you up. You called him and he picked up after a few rings.
[Mingi-ah] You weakly said
[Hey Y/N? you usually never call me like this is everything alright?] he replied
[I don’t know I feel light headed, I’m about 5 minutes from your house, and I-] as soon as you said that you fell to the ground due to weakness.
[Y/N! I heard a thud are you alright?]
[No, I can’t get up, my legs and hands feel numb] you whispered
[Okay wait there I’m coming to get you]
[Okay] you whispered weakly, after which you closed your eyes and passed out.
[Y/N, stay on the call with me okay?] he called out to you
[Y/N?] He asked a little louder
[Y/N?!] He was frantic at this point, shuffling heard through the phone.
He tried reaching your location as quick as possible. When he did he noticed a strange man trying to carry you off the ground.
“Listen you bastard, let my girlfriend go!” Mingi yelled at the man pushing him off of you.
You were still out cold, unaware of what was going on around you. 
When you wok up, you were in Mingi’s bed with a cold cloth on your head and water by your side. Mingi was also sitting on the bed just looking outside, not realising you had gotten up.
“Mingi-ah” You said weakly
“Oh my goodness, Y/N” he engulfed you in a tight hug not letting go of you
“I thought I lost you, I love you so much”
“I love you too Mingi”
Wooyoung: (break-in)
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You and Wooyoung had just fought. It was some stupid reason, however both of you being the petty people you were, didn’t back down and it resulted in Wooyoung stomping out of your shared apartment. You stared at the door as he did, too paralysed to do anything. You had never had a fight this big before. You decided to cook dinner to hopefully cool off, eventually Wooyoung would come home right? You decided to cook dinner for the both of you. 
You put something on the stove and left it to cook for a bit while going to the other room to set up the table. While setting the table up, you couldn’t help but regret what happened earlier, you felt guilty for letting escalate so far and let a few tears fall. As you kept setting up the table, you decided to check on the food cooking and once it was done you plated it nicely, adding a heart of sauce to Wooyoung’s plate, and simply sitting at the table waiting for him to come back. After a while, you got tired of waiting for him, and decided to just call him. You called him once, but he didn’t pick up the first time and so you tried calling him again, which he picked up.
[Y/N, I thought I told you not to call me] He said sighing
[I know but I made dinner, and I was just waiting for you to come home] you whispered out feeling guilty for bothering him.
[Alright then, I’m coming home, we can talk it out] he said, you were relieved and happy that you would be able to sort it out, but also nervous to face him again.
[Okay, Woo-] You were interrupted by a doorbell ringing, and you went to go check the door.
[Wait, Y/N who is that?] Wooyoung said
[Isn’t that you?] You asked him back.
[No it’s not. Check through the peephole]
[It’s a random man, do you have any friends coming over?]
[No, they’re all here, don’t open the doo-]
You both were interrupted by a noise on the door, banging. You gasped and spoke to Wooyoung again.
[Woo, I don’t know who that is, and I’m scared, please help]
[Stay on the call with me! Don’t hang up and lock yourself in our room, Don’t come out until I get home!]
[Wooyoung you can’t come home, what if they attack you or something?] You said voice breaking at the end, even the thought of Wooyoung getting hurt was so hard to think about.
[Y/N, are you crying?] He asked lovingly
[No] you replied whispering, not trusting your voice. Wooyoung video called you, and you covered your face.
[Baby, there’s no need to worry, I have Seonghwa and Yeosang with me too, now show me your beautiful face please, I’ve missed you] You looked up showing your tear stained face, gaining a gasp in return
[Why is my baby cryinggg] he whined over the phone. You giggled, and were quickly interrupted by police sirens, suggesting they called the police and were here to save you.
The second you saw Wooyoung outside, you ran out the house into his arms, jumping onto him, wrapping your hands around his neck, and legs around his waist. 
“I missed you” you cried into his neck, “I was so scaredd”
“Aigoo, I promise I won’t ever leave you alone again alright? Now let’s go have dinner”
And that promise was definitely fulfilled as her tried to stay with you whenever he could acting clingier that usual fro the next few weeks.
Jongho: (creep at night)
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You and Jongho had gone out for a late night stroll as you finally got time to spend with each other. Oftentimes, he was busy with the band, or couldn’t leave the house. At night like this however, you were both content. You were calmly strolling around a park when you decided you go pick a few flowers. Not going too far, you saw these blue and purple flowers that you quite liked and further ventured into the park to get them. Jongho was still on the bench of the park eating some ice cream you had gotten together. 
You decided to to sit down and collect a few flowers so show your boyfriend you you made yourself comfortable and sat comfortably. After a while, you heard shuffling behind you and saw a strange man walking towards you. Warning bells ringing in your head, you tried standing up to walk away, only for the man to come up to you and hold you down your shoulder. He was squatting down, so you had to look up at him.
“Excuse me sir, I don’t know who you are or what you want, please let me go” You tried saying as nicely as you could. Despite this however, the man just grinned at you as he inched closer and closer. 
“I like the innocent ones the most” He said sneering
At this point, you were scared as hell and were struggling to get out of his grip to no avail. You started breathing heavier and started getting worried, no one was around, what would this creep do? 
“What do you want, ugh!” You tried squirming out of his grip, only to be shoved back to the ground. 
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll let you go after I’m done” He said wickedly. At this point you had had enough
“Jongho!! Help! Please help me!” You yelled as loud as you could. No response. 
“Guess your little boyfriend over there, doesn’t mind either. Now where should we begin?” He asked trying to trail his hands towards your neck, only to get shoved to the ground by Jongho. 
“You bitch!” Jongho yelled. Kicking him a few times as well.
“How dare you touch my girlfriend!”
Jongho picked you up and took you back home. Although you didn’t show love to each other physically too much, it was moments like this where you realised how in love you were with him. you were thankful to have such a protective boyfriend.
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